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1/ 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 
 KECOL LECTIONS. 
 
IN PRESS : 
 
 THE LIFE OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 BY MR. LESLIE. 
 
 WITH NOTICES OF HOGARTH, WILSON, GAINSBOROUGH, AND 
 OTHER ARTISTS, HIS CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 w 
 
 http://archive.org/details/autobiographicalOOIesl_0 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 CHARLES ROBERT LESLIE, R.A. 
 
 EDITED, 
 
 WITH A PREFATORY ESSAY ON LESLIE AS AN ARTIST, 
 AND SELECTIONS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE, 
 
 By TOM TAYLOR, Esq., 
 
 EDITOR OF THE " AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF HAYDON." 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 
 M DCCC LX. 
 
Albemarle Street, London, April 30, 1860. 
 
 Messrs. Ticknor and Fields : 
 
 Dear Sirs, — Acting on behalf of the representatives of the late 
 Mr. Leslie, R. A., I have great pleasure in placing in your hands 
 the early sheets of that eminent Artist's " Memoirs and Correspon- 
 dence " for exclusive publication in the United States ; believing that 
 you, as personal friends of the late Mr. Leslie, will be most dis- 
 posed to promote the interests of the work and of the family. 
 
 I remain, Dear Sirs, 
 
 Yours very faithfully, 
 
 John Murray. 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 H. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. 
 
 **■ GtTTV CENTER 
 LIBRARY 
 
EDITOK'S PEEFACE. 
 
 It is owing to the innate modesty of the late Mr. 
 Leslie's character, that in his Autobiographical Recol- 
 lections the part occupied by himself and his pictures 
 is small in comparison with that devoted to his con- 
 temporaries and friends. So great is my respect for 
 Mr. Leslie, that I have hesitated long before giving 
 to the world any more about him than he had thought 
 fit himself to prepare for publication. 
 
 But when I took into account his claims to considera- 
 tion as a painter, I felt strongly that readers must wish 
 to know more about the man than he had himself told 
 them — more about tjje circumstances and influences 
 under which his pictures were produced; the present 
 state and locality of these pictures; their subjects; the 
 way in which those subjects are treated, and the general 
 characteristics of his style. 
 
 I have therefore attempted, in an Introductory Essay, 
 to classify and describe such of Leslie's more important 
 works as I have been able to examine personally, and 
 to give a general appreciation of his artistic qualities, 
 and his position in the English school. 
 
 I have, further, selected from the correfpondence placed 
 
VI 
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 at my disposal, the parts bearing on the painter's works, 
 and on his life as connected with his works. Without 
 such an addition to the Autobiographical Recollections 
 which Leslie had himself made ready for posthumous 
 publication, this volume would not — as it seems to me 
 
 — have contained the information required to give it its 
 proper place among the artistic biographies of the time 
 
 — such lives as have been published, or are preparing, 
 of Wilkie and Constable, Etty, Haydon, and Turner. 
 
 In using the matter entrusted to me, I have been 
 guided by the strongest regard and respect for the 
 painter, and for the family that is left to lament the 
 irreparable loss of such a husband, brother, and father. 
 I have endeavoured to bear in mind, always, the mod- 
 esty, tolerance, and good taste which ruled throughout 
 Leslie's life and labours; and to respect the time and 
 patience of my readers. Affectionate admiration for 
 my subject may, however, have in some cases misled 
 me as to what was worth printing about him — hav- 
 ing regard, at least, to the wider public. I have little 
 fear that the many friends of ^Leslie, and the large 
 circle of them who, like myself, have loved and bene- 
 fited by his works, will think I have extracted too 
 much from his letters, or that I have rated the man 
 or his pictures too highly. 
 
 His son, Mr. George Leslie, writes thus to me, of, 
 the manner in which the Autobiographical Recollec- 
 tions were composed: — 
 
 " The manner in which my father's autobiography was writ- 
 ten was this. He was in the habit of writing down accounts 
 of anything of importance that occurred to him all his life, and 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 vii 
 
 it is from these notes and from letters which he collected, that 
 the autobiography you have was composed. 
 
 " We have reason to believe that he commenced it about 
 ten years ago, writing in it from time to time. The reason it 
 ends abruptly was not on account of- failing health, but be- 
 cause all the time he could spare from his painting was, dur- 
 ing the last year of his life, occupied by him in writing the 
 life of Sir Joshua Reynolds, at which he worked hard even a 
 month before his death." 
 
 TOM TAYLOR. 
 
AUTHOE'S PREFACE. 
 
 My object has been to preserve in these pages 
 some recollections of those chiefly whom I could 
 praise; and of them, not the faults and foibles that 
 are more or less common to all men, but the merits 
 that are rare, and on which alone their claims to dis- 
 tinction rest. I mention this that I may not be 
 charged with dealing too much in panegyric. 
 
 C. R. LESLIE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Introduction: On Leslie's Pictures xiii 
 
 General Characteristics of Leslie as an Artist . . xlvii 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Voyage to America — Engagement at sea — French ship vanquished — 
 Youthful bravery — The Newfoundland dog — Residence at Lisbon — 
 Departure from Lisbon — Arrival at Philadelphia .... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Desire to be a Painter — George Frederick Cooke — Departure for England 
 
 — New Acquaintances — Visits to the Theatre — Allston and Cole- 
 ridge — Visit to Clifton — Obtain the Academy medals — Fuseli and 
 Westmacott — Visit to Paris — Coleridge's lectures on Shakespeare — 
 Fragments of Coleridge — Coleridge at Highgate — Charles and Mary 
 Lamb 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 President West — Washington Irving and Walter Scott — Visit to Oxford 
 
 — Elected associate — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Flaxman and Lawrence 
 
 — Flaxman and Canova — Chantrey — Garrick and Parliament . . 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Wilkie — Visit to Scotland — Visit to Abbotsford — Anecdote of Mrs. 
 Coutts — Walter Scott at Home — Visit to Edinburgh . . . .54 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Lord Holland — Lord Egremont — Anecdote of Lord Egremont — Petworth 
 — The Rev. Sidney Smith — Anecdotes of Sidney Smith — Constable, 
 the Painter — Walter Scott in London — Alfred and John Chalon . 66 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Appointment in America — Letter of Lord Egremont — Ai-rival in New 
 York— Sojourn at West Point — Return to England — Samuel Rogers 
 and Stothard — Anecdotes of Stothard — Old Lady Cork — Newton, 
 the Painter . . .80 
 
xii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Visit to Cashiobury — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Theatrical Stars — Jack 
 Bannister — The Sistine Chapel — Chantrey — Holland House — Sir 
 
 George Beaumont — Constable, the Painter 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Lord Egremont — The Coronation — The Duke of Wellington — Lord Mel- 
 bourne — The Princess Royal — Wilkie's Asiatic Sketches — Raim- 
 bach, the Engraver — Newton and Wilkie — Wilkie's Letters . . 108 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The. Wellington Statue — Westmacott, the Sculptor — A Sea-Captain's 
 Stories — Etty, the Academician — Sir Robert Peel — Sir Martin Shee 
 
 — Visit to Paris — President Eastlake — The Great Exhibition . . 121 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Turner — Turner and Ruskin — Turner's Pictures — Sir Charles Eastlake 
 
 — Landseer — The Engravers of England — Wilkie's Prints — Engrav- 
 ing Auctioneers 133 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 John Howard Payne — Haydon, the Painter — Haydon's Journal — Hay- 
 don's character — The Chalons and Cattermole — British, French, 
 and German Schools — Dessin's Hotel — Peter Powell — Samuel Rogers 
 
 — Rogers's " Table Talk " 145 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Prince Saunders — Wilson's Ornithology — Peter Pindar — Matthews " At 
 Home " — Kenney, the Dramatist — Rogers and Maltby . . .162 
 
 Extracts from Leslie's Correspondence 171 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 List op the Principal Pictures Painted, and of all the 
 Pictures Exhibited by C. K. Leslie, K. A 357 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 It has been my lot to be entrusted with the ar- 
 rangement for the press of two artistic autobiogra- 
 phies — that of Haydon, and that of Leslie. It is 
 difficult to imagine a completer contrast than is 
 formed by the characters, lives, and works of these 
 two painters. Haydon presents to us a nature all 
 self-confidence, passion, and combativeness. He was 
 exclusive in his theories ; reckless in his defiance of 
 difficulties; unscrupulous in the means he took to re- 
 lieve them ; untiring in his appeals to patrons, and public 
 men, and the public. Regarding himself as a martyr to 
 High- Art, he claimed to the full all the immunities 
 and indulgences that the most lenient and sympathetic 
 judgment could attach to that position. Alternately 
 elated with the most buoyant hope and depressed by 
 the deepest despair — fighting, struggling, appealing, 
 asserting himself his whole life through, he closed a 
 stormy and sorrowful career by suicide. But through 
 all this tempestuous life, he loved his art passionately, 
 and was truly and deeply attached to his wife and 
 his children. His pictures seem to me to reflect at 
 once his lofty aims and his practical short-comings. 
 Their unquestionable power and vigour are marred 
 by ever recurring evidences of haste, slovenliness, 
 coarseness, and lack of taste. 
 
xiv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In Leslie, on the other hand, we see the man of 
 cautious, trustful, respectful nature from the first. 
 Slow in the formation of his judgment, disposed to 
 defer to others in his art and out of it, but strong in 
 principle, and apt to hold stubbornly to convictions 
 once grasped; not given to court notoriety or public- 
 ity, and rather shrinking from than provoking con- 
 flict; asking only leave to pursue the even tenor of 
 his way in the practice of the unambitious art he 
 loved, among the quiet friends he valued; equable, 
 affectionate, self-respecting to the point of reserve and 
 reticence ; valuing good taste and moderation as 
 much in art as in manners; averse to exclusive theo- 
 ries or loud-sounding self-assertion in all forms ; clos- 
 ing a happy, peaceful, successful, and honored life, by 
 the calm and courageous death of a Christian, and 
 leaving behind him pictures stamped in every line 
 with good taste, chastened humour, and graceful sen- 
 timent — pictures which it makes us happier, gentler, 
 and better to look upon — pictures which help us to 
 love good books more, and to regard our fellow-crea- 
 tures with kindlier eyes. 
 
 The lessons of two such lives ought not to be writ- 
 ten in vain. For power, passion, and variety ; for cu- 
 rious revelation of character, eloquent criticism, and 
 vivid sketching of men and manners, the little Leslie 
 has left written is altogether unworthy of comparison 
 with those bulky records of himself from which I se- 
 lected the materials for the autobiography of Haydon. 
 But scanty, and comparatively colourless, as Leslie's 
 remains may be, they are of value in throwing light 
 on the character, as well as on the works, of the 
 painter — that part of him which alone has an inter- 
 est for us. 
 
 Before entering on the subject of Leslie's pictures 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. xv 
 
 in detail, I think it essential to fair appreciation of the 
 painter and the man, to give the reader such knowl- 
 edge as I can of his method of working, and of his 
 daily habits. 
 
 " His painting-room," says his son George, " differed from 
 those of most artists in one point. He never hung up any of 
 his own works or studies on the walls, but had a great many fine 
 examples of other painters — chiefly copies by himself from the 
 old masters. He considered that an artist who fed his eye with 
 his own works was sure to get into a mannered style of painting. 
 He painted in the simplest manner, always trying to get his work 
 like in tone and colour to the object he painted from as soon as 
 possible. He had a particular objection to the practice of pre- 
 paring his work in one colour, to be afterwards altered to another 
 by glazing. He used to say, that unless you possessed a most 
 extraordinary knowledge of the chemical, as well as modifying, 
 qualities of colours, it was always very uncertain whether you 
 would obtain by that means the exact tint you wanted. 
 
 " He was very quick in working, especially in painting heads ; 
 I don't think he ever kept a model more than two hours at a 
 time, and generally finished a head the second day, though he 
 frequently rubbed his work out, if it was not satisfactory to him, 
 and painted it in afresh. I have often sat to him, and he had 
 always finished before I was tired. 
 
 " He very seldom praised his own work ; but I have often seen 
 him laughing at some expression that pleased him in his picture. 
 
 " In giving instruction to young artists he used to say very 
 little, but he would take the palette and brushes himself, and show 
 them a great deal. He never, however, took this trouble with 
 any student for whom he felt there was no hope. He was kind 
 to all young artists, and never spoke to them in the way of criti- 
 cism without some qualifying expression, such as, 'I may be 
 wrong,' or 1 Perhaps you are right.' 
 
 " His palette was always kept clean, and he put more colour 
 on it than he thought he should use, as he said he hated a starved 
 palette. On the same principle he provided himself with a most 
 liberal supply of brushes, in the choice of which he was a little 
 
xvi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 different from most artists I have seen work. He used a great 
 many more sable brushes than any other, and was especially fond 
 of very small ones, with which he put the delicate touches on his 
 heads. 
 
 " He worked very steadily and cheerfully, keeping up a sort of 
 whistling at times, which I think he was unconscious of, as he was 
 always absorbed in thinking about what he was painting. I re- 
 member him once walking about looking for his palette-knife, 
 which he was holding in his hand all the time. 
 
 " He had a very pretty habit of going into the garden before 
 breakfast and picking either a honeysuckle or a rose — his fa- 
 vourite flowers — and putting them in a glass on the mantel-shelf 
 in his painting-room. I hardly ever saw his room in the summer 
 without these flowers, and we have a little sketch of a rose, which 
 he picked and brought into the house so gently that he did not 
 disturb a beautiful little moth on it. 
 
 " He took a great interest in astronomy. His knowledge of 
 this science was very slight, but the pleasure he had in the vari- 
 ous appearances in the heavens was unbounded, so much so, that 
 he used to say an eclipse seemed to take place on purpose for his 
 pleasure. He once said to me that he thought it very likely that 
 part of our happiness in the next life would be derived from find- 
 ing out the wonders of the creation which are hidden to us here. 
 
 " He entertained the greatest veneration for all celebrated sci- 
 entific men, and once had a correspondence with Professor Fara- 
 day on the blue colour of the sky. The Professor's kind replies 
 delighted my father beyond measure." 
 
 The following was the usual distribution of his 
 day: — 
 
 " He would rise," writes his son, " about eight o'clock in the 
 winter, and about seven in the summer, when he would walk in 
 the garden before breakfast. He had breakfast at nine, and en- 
 joyed the newspaper very much, taking great interest in poli- 
 tics, or any topic that occupied the public attention. He always 
 read a chapter in the Bible to us all afterwards, and then, about 
 half-past nine or ten, he would commence work, sometimes being 
 
ON LESLIES PICTURES. 
 
 xvii 
 
 read to at the same time. He did not object to the presence of 
 any of his family in his room, but sometimes, when very busy, 
 he would turn us out, especially the younger ones, whom he 
 called ' trudies,' his corruption of intruders. He was never irri- 
 tated by anything whilst at work, but seemed always calm and 
 happy. He was rather absent in his mind about trivial things. 
 He would sometimes strike a carpet-pin, mistaking it for a lucifer 
 match, and was very apt to forget people's names, unless con- 
 nected in some way with his art. But if any one possessed a 
 fine picture, however commonplace and uninteresting that person 
 might otherwise be, he always remembered his name, and was al- 
 ways ready to go and see him. 
 
 " He lunched at one, and would generally leave off work about 
 four o'clock, when he would go out, but seldom without some ob- 
 ject, as to see pictures at the auction-rooms, or to call on people 
 who possessed pictures. 
 
 " He dined generally at six o'clock, and, after a nap, would 
 either play at chess, which he was very fond of, or else would 
 read to us from Shakespeare or ' Don Quixote^ and sometimes 
 passages from ' Tristram Shandy.' He was very fond of having 
 friends to see him in the evening, though unless his company 
 possessed some knowledge of the art he took but little pleasure 
 in them." 
 
 The Petworth Collection is richest in Leslie's pic- 
 tures of all our private galleries — having regard to the 
 merit, if not the number, of the pictures it contains. 
 After Petworth must be ranked the galleries of Mr. 
 John Naylor at Leigh ton Hall, Welshpool, Mr. Edwin. 
 Bullock and Mr. Joseph Gillott at Birmingham, Mr. 
 Thomas Miller at Preston, and Mrs. Gibbons in the 
 Regent's Park, London. Our National Gallery, espe- 
 cially the Sheepshanks collection, is, happily, richer than 
 even the richest of these. * 
 
 * The Duke of Bedford, the Earl of Essex, Mr. Harris, Mr. Bates, Mr. Bick- 
 nell, Mr. Thomas Baring, Mr. Heugh, Mr. Newsham, Mr. W. C. Sole, and other 
 collectors in this country, possess important pictures of this master. There 
 
 b 
 
xviii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is pleasant to me to think that so many of Leslie's 
 pictures should have found a home among the mills of 
 Lancashire and the smoking forges and grimy work- 
 shops of Birmingham. They are eminently calculated 
 to counteract the ignobler influences of industrial occu- 
 pation by their inborn refinement, their liberal element 
 of loveliness, their sweet sentiment of nature, their lite- 
 rary associations, and their genial humour. I can speak 
 from personal observation to the real appreciation of 
 these pictures in such places, not on the part of their 
 possessors only, but among the many, both masters and 
 workmen, to whom these galleries are so liberally opened. 
 Leslie testifies in one of his letters to the extraordinary 
 change which he had lived to see in the source and 
 spread of patronage for the painter. The nobleman is no 
 longer the chief purchaser of contemporary pictures. It 
 is mainly to our great manufacturing and trading towns 
 that the painter has to look for the sale of his works. 
 The class enriched by manufactures and commerce is 
 now doing for art in England what the same class did 
 in earlier times in Florence, Genoa, and Venice, for the 
 art of Italy ; in Bruges, Antwerp, and Amsterdam for 
 that of the Low Countries and Holland. The change 
 may have its evil as well as its good. There may be 
 some risk that it will multiply the manufacture and in- 
 crease the homeliness of pictures, to say nothing of less 
 direct and obvious ill-consequences. 
 
 But against such risks is to be set the likelihood that 
 purchasers of this class will, in the main, insist upon 
 something like fidelity to nature, and truthfulness of ex- 
 pression and sentiment. They are rarely beset by pre- 
 judice in favour of old schools or time-honoured conven- 
 tionalities ; ceteris paribus, they are likely to prefer pic- 
 are others in America, in the collections of Col. Lenox of New York, and Mr. 
 Joseph Miller of Virginia, U. S. 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xix 
 
 tures which are the growth of the time, and appeal to 
 the time, to those which belong to the past, and speak 
 to the past — or, in other words — living to dead art. 
 
 In Mr. Naylor's collection the painter may be studied 
 in his earliest and latest manners, — in the 6 Sir Roger 
 de Coverley going to Church' (1819), (the original pic- 
 ture painted for Mr. Dunlop), and the ' May Day in the 
 time of Queen Elizabeth' (1821); and in one of the 
 last works of his pencil, ' The Interview of Jeanie Deans 
 and Queen Caroline ' (1859). 
 
 The two former pictures demand notice first as works 
 of a time when Leslie was most himself; that is, when 
 he had felt the influence of neither of two painters who 
 materially affected his later practice — Newton on the 
 one hand, and Constable on the other. 
 
 Both these pictures are simply painted, with a due 
 admixture of solid and glazing colour; and neither 
 shows the least sign of impaired tone or failing surface. 
 They are as bright and sunny in effect, and as free from 
 crack or decay, as when first painted. 
 
 The original 'Sir Roger' is finer in tone than the 
 repetition. Parts of it indicate a close study of Ho- 
 garth, especially the old yeoman who stands to receive 
 the Squire's greeting, with his fresh, pretty daughter on 
 his arm. In the latter I recognise the lady who, some 
 four or five years after the picture was painted, became 
 the painter's wife. Sir Roger, in his full suit of crim- 
 son velvet, on his way up the pathway to the little 
 church, pats on the head the widow's children, who 
 look up to him with round, wondering eyes. Their 
 mother is a sweet and comely rustic matron. The head 
 of Sir Roger, Leslie tells us in his Life *of Constable, 
 was painted from an old Royal Academician, Mr. 
 Bigg,* likelier to go down to posterity in this picture 
 
 * " I thought him," he says, " in appearance and manners, a perfect speci- 
 
XX 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of Leslie's than in any of his own works. The Spec- 
 tator, who accompanies Sir Roger, is commonplace 
 enough. But he is, after all, but a colourless personage 
 in Addison's own hands. The rustics who line the 
 pathway are all true to nature. Besides the group of 
 the old man and daughter already described, there is a 
 full-blown young woman, sticking a flower into her 
 boddice, and a moon-faced labourer, in a smock frock, 
 looking over 'her shoulder, both quite worthy of Ho- 
 garth. Even in this picture — painted in 1819, when 
 the painter was only twenty-four, — there is no observa- 
 ble deficiency either in drawing, colouring, or composi- 
 tion, or in linear or aerial perspective. 
 
 I should say at least as much for the ' May-Day,' in 
 which, besides all these merits in the figures, there is 
 shown a power of effective landscape-painting, of which 
 Leslie has left us few examples. The scene may be 
 supposed to be in Kent. The foreground is a knoll, 
 from which the eye ranges over a wide stretch of level 
 and richly cultivated woodland, with a distant manor- 
 house and church. Overhead is a bright spring sky, 
 with wreaths of sunlit cloud. The family and guests 
 of the manor-house furnish the foreground groups, the 
 principal of which is made up of a fantastically dressed 
 gentleman of the court in crimson velvet, and the rustic 
 beauty of the manor to whom he is paying euphuistic 
 court. She timidly accepts his offered hand for the 
 dance, hardly understanding the meaning of his quaint 
 and far-fetched phrases. She wears a tawny robe, over 
 a blue petticoat. To the right of the foreground, a 
 stately Elizabethan dame, in farthingale of scarlet and 
 gold, and am^le ruff, looks on at the sports, while her 
 jester behind her in red, yellow, and green motley, slyly 
 
 men of an old-fashioned English gentleman. He was one of the most amiable 
 men who ever existed." 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxi 
 
 draws an ass in a lion's skin on the buckler of one of 
 the blue-coated serving-men, who complete the right- 
 hand group. A little further off, to the left, are gath- 
 ered, in reclining groups on the grass, or standing under 
 the trees, the rest of the gentry, who have assembled to 
 watch the shooting at the butts and the May games, in 
 full swing on the green below. You see part of the 
 line of the merry morris-dance, where the meadow falls 
 beyond the foreground. These dancers are drawn and 
 grouped with a spirit and freedom not unworthy of Ru- 
 bens. Near them stands the old sable-clad schoolmas- 
 ter — rod in hand, and spectacles on nose — who watches 
 the dancers himself, reverently and fearfully watched the 
 whole time by a group of his small scholars, who clearly 
 are not satisfied that the rod is there by mere inad- 
 vertence of habit. On the level sward in the distance 
 sits the May Queen under her arbour, while before her 
 sweeps the merry rout of masquers round the May-pole 
 — Robin Hood and Maid Marian, Much and Scathe- 
 lock, Little John and Friar Tuck, with the fool, the 
 dragon and the hobby-horse, surrounded by a ring of 
 applauding village spectators. As we look, we seem to 
 feel the fresh soft spring breeze among the trees ; to hear 
 the clashing peal from the steeple, mingled with the 
 pipe and tabor, and the sound of joyous carouse, over 
 beef and ale, from the booth beyond. 
 
 I know no blither, brighter, more exhilarating picture. 
 There is masterly skill, and truth above all, in its dis- 
 tribution of light and shadow, always so difficult in a 
 day-light, open-air picture, with many figures. The 
 well-known engraving by Watt does justice to it. 
 
 Next in order of time, to these pictures, come those 
 in the gallery at Petworth. First of these stands ' San- 
 cho and the Duchess.' Of all Leslie's pictures this is 
 probably the most popular, and in none are his peculiar 
 
xxii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 merits more gracefully and happily displayed. The in- 
 cident is fully described in the passage * from Shelton's 
 translation of Don Quixote, which accompanied the 
 picture in the Academy catalogue for 1824. 
 
 In the expressions of the actors, the painter has caught 
 the very spirit of the scene. Sancho half-shrewd, half- 
 obtuse, takes the Duchess into his confidence, with a 
 finger laid along his nose ; his way of sitting shows that 
 he is on a style of seat he is unused to. Chantrey sat 
 to Leslie for the expression of the Sancho, and his hearty 
 sense of humour qualified him to embody the charac- 
 ter well. The Duchess's enjoyment breaks through the 
 habitual restraint of her high breeding, and the grave 
 courtesy of her Spanish manners, in the sweetest half- 
 smile — a triumph of subtle expression. The sour and 
 literal Dona Rodriguez is evidently not forgetful how 
 Sancho, on his arrival, had desired her to have a care of 
 Dapple. The mirth of the whispering waiting-maids 
 culminates in the broad sunshiny grin of the mulatto- 
 woman. Nor has Leslie ever been happier in the com- 
 position of any picture. 
 
 All the accessories are painted with fine finish, the 
 nicest sense of propriety, and careful attention to effects 
 of direct and reflected light. Petworth was a treasure- 
 house to Leslie of old-world wealth in furniture, jewel- 
 lery, china, and toilet ornaments ; and during his visits 
 there he made careful and numerous studies of such 
 objects. Here he saw and studied such things in their 
 places, which may help to account for the naturalness 
 and propriety with which they are always introduced 
 by him. 
 
 The three versions f of this subject are full of varia- 
 
 * See correspondence of that year. 
 
 f I might have said four, for I have just learnt that there is a fourth Sancho, 
 which had found its way to the United States, and is now in this country, in 
 the gallery of Mr. Farnworth. Leslie painted a good deal upon it after its ar- 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxiii 
 
 tions in detail. Leslie never repeated a picture exactly. 
 In the Petworth picture the principal light falls upon the 
 lovely face and white satin robe of the Duchess, and is 
 carried out by the lightish green china vase to the left. 
 In the Vernon repetition, the principal light is focussed 
 by the white and gold pilasters, conducted thence by 
 the Duchess's head and shoulders, and the duenna's 
 white apron, — which is wanting in the Petworth orig- 
 inal, — and carried out to the left by the open music- 
 book and the back of the chair ; while on the right it is 
 continued in both by the shoulder of the mulatto, the 
 head-dress and collar of one of the waiting women, 
 and Sancho's shining bald pate. The Petworth San- 
 cho has blue breeches : the Vernon Sancho is dressed 
 entirely in black and drab. In the original picture the 
 Duchess's inner robe is a pure silvery satin, deliciously 
 painted ; the outer robe a delicate purplish grey ; in the 
 Vernon picture her inner dress is a light golden yellow : 
 her saccque a darker purple lined with green. The 
 wall to the right, in the earlier version, is covered with 
 green tapestry. This tapestry is red, with a blue border 
 in the later one. There is no picture of the Duke on 
 the wall behind the Duchess in the Petworth original, 
 as there is in the Vernon repetition. The dress of the 
 waiting damsel in the foreground of the earlier version 
 is a warm salmon colour ; it is russet green in the other ; 
 and the flower on the toilet-table is red in the former, 
 white in the latter picture. In the quality of its colour 
 the Petworth picture is, to my mind, immeasurably finer 
 than either the version of the subject painted for Mr. 
 Rogers, or that painted for Mr. Vernon. 
 
 The lines of the composition are the same in all three 
 pictures ; and the general distribution of the light and 
 
 rival here from North America; but not having seen this picture I can say 
 nothing of its variations from the others. 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 shade is identical, though the objects which make up 
 the balance of colour are varied in each, with great 
 pains, and thorough knowledge. 
 
 The Rogers picture brought eleven hundred and fifty- 
 guineas at the sale of the poet's gallery. Mr. Leslie 
 was present. A country dealer seated beside him, who 
 had been absent from the room when the picture was 
 knocked down, seeing that Mr. Leslie had noted the 
 prices in his catalogue, asked to look at it. " Good 
 gracious me ! Eleven hundred and fifty guineas for 
 Leslie's picture ! Did you ever hear of such a price, 
 sir?" "Monstrous, is it not?" said Leslie, who told 
 the story to his family with great glee on his return 
 home. 
 
 The Petworth picture is singularly rich and harmoni- 
 ous in effect, and transparent throughout in its paint- 
 ing. It is, I think, altogether, for expression, composi- 
 tion, and colour, the finest example of the painter, and 
 exhibits him in the very prime of his powers, and while 
 under the influence of Newton as a colourist and work- 
 man. But the surface has cracked slightly, owing to 
 the incautious use of glazing colours — asphaltum, 
 above all, that most fatal to durability of all pig- 
 ments. The repetitions, though less glowing, are both 
 in perfect preservation,' and are solidly and simply 
 painted, with a very cautious use of glazing. They 
 both belong to the period when Constable's influence 
 had superseded Newton's, and when Leslie was satis- 
 fied that his pictures should look white and chalky 
 while fresh, in the faith that they would mellow with 
 time. His practice exemplifies the only" case in which 
 the colour of pictures does really change for the better. 
 Leslie's later works have mellowed in a very noticeable 
 degree. I can myself perceive that even his latest and 
 weakest pictures — the ' Jeanie Deans ' for example — 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 XXV 
 
 have improved wonderfully "in the short period which 
 has elapsed since they were painted. 
 
 After the ' Sancho,' the most interesting picture at 
 Petworth is the i Catherine and Petruchio.' This is the 
 first version of the subject, of which the Sheepshanks' 
 picture is a repetition with variations. For example, 
 the remains of the meal on the table to the right of the 
 spectator are quite different in the two, though touched 
 in both with a precision worthy of Teniers. In this 
 case also the colour of the Petworth picture is superior 
 in glow and power, and I did not detect in it any sign 
 of cracking. In their disposition of colours, the two 
 pictures are very much alike ; but we have only to com- 
 pare the satin gown, which is the object of Petruchio's 
 rage, in the one and in the other, to recognise how 
 much more powerful Leslie was in his management of 
 colour in 1832, than at the later date of the Sheep- 
 shanks' picture. 
 
 The ' Introduction of Gulliver to the Queen of Brob- 
 dingnag,' (1835) appears to me a mistake in subject, 
 and a very inferior work of the painter's in all techni- 
 cal respects. Instead of the Brobdingnagians looking 
 like giants, Gulliver looks like a pigmy. The colour, 
 tried by Leslie's own standard, is violent without being 
 rich, and for the first and last time, as far as I know, in 
 Leslie's pictures, appears to me unrefined and inharmo- 
 nious.* The only passage of humour worthy of the 
 painter is the face of the old lady, who is curiously exam- 
 ining the strange little creature through her eye-glass, and 
 the look of the farmer's little girl who is crying for the loss 
 of her plaything. The other Petworth pictures — ' Lady 
 Carlisle carrying the pardon to her Father in the Tower, 
 and 'Charles II. at Tillietudlem ' — must be classed 
 
 * Another picture very closely resembling this in the quality of its colour, 
 is the ' Columbus,' now in the Collection of Joseph Gillott, Esq. 
 
XXVI 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in the second rank of the painter's works. The first 
 subject is hardly a paintable one. It is impossible to 
 convey, by a momentary expression, the conflict in the 
 Duke's mind between the temptation of liberty, the 
 stubbornness of parental authority outraged by his 
 daughter's marriage against his will, and the haughty 
 consciousness of innocence, which kept him so long a 
 prisoner when the least submission or effort might have 
 opened his dungeon door. Nor is there anything very 
 available for t*he painter in the Duke's " three magi," — 
 Harriot, Warner, and Hughes ; nor does one see very 
 clearly what part Raleigh is taking in the action of the 
 picture. Perhaps the point of effect, after all, is in the 
 contrast of the eager, fluttering young woman, and the 
 serene abstraction of the two learned prisoners, and 
 their three aged companions in study, thus startlingly 
 broken in upon. The stately old lady of Tillietudlem 
 gives a better opportunity to the painter, and he has in- 
 dicated her delighted pride in the King's salute, in his 
 happiest manner. There is Lesliean humour too, in the 
 introduction of Cuddie Headri gg as an attendant strip- 
 ling, gazing, open-mouthed, upon the royal visitor. 
 
 To those who feel an affection for Leslie, Petworth is 
 almost as interesting for its associations with the paint- 
 er's life and works as for his pictures to be seen there. 
 It was here that he was able to study the forms and col- 
 our of rococo furniture — of tapestried chairs, China 
 jars and monsters, broad Venetian mirrors, gorgeous 
 brocade and damask hangings, and massive silver and 
 silver-gilt plate, still in daily use. You may see at Pet- 
 worth, where Leslie is still affectionately remembered by 
 the old servants, the screen and chairs which he has 
 painted in the ' Rape of the Lock ; ' the old globe, intro- 
 duced in the ' Lady Carlisle ; ' the carved mirror and 
 jewelled casket of the Duchess's toilet-table ; Sophia 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxvii 
 
 Western's China jars, and console ; the window, with 
 its look out on the swelling slopes of the park, where 
 sweet Lady Jane Grey sits absorbed in Plato, while the 
 hounds and horns are making merry music in the sun- 
 shine without. Here is the very Gainsborough which 
 Constable tells Leslie he could not " even think of with- 
 out tears in his eyes," and the Bassan which Leslie was 
 allowed to have up in his bed-room ; Vandyke's Lady 
 Anne Carr, which showed him the height to which high- 
 bred grace and loveliness could be carried in portrait- 
 ure; Titian's Catherine Cornaro, to reveal the still deeper 
 magic of diffused Venetian splendour. Here too, among 
 some of Turner's finest landscapes, and Romney's most 
 bewitching repetitions of Lady Hamilton's haunting 
 face, the visitor will find the ' Jacob's Dream,' the master- 
 piece of Leslie's early friend Allston, a correct but cold 
 Academic production, with a grace that seems to belong 
 half to Westall, half to Raffaelle ; and the ' Contempla- 
 tion,' of the same painter, a female figure of a conven- 
 tional cast of beauty, in a somewhat affected attitude, 
 backed by a mannered landscape. 
 
 Don Quixote was a favorite source of subjects to 
 Leslie. Besides his thrice repeated ' Sancho in the 
 apartment of the Duchess,' we owe to the same book 
 many of the painter's best pictures. As first of these 
 in date after the ' Sancho ' should be mentioned, ' Don 
 Quixote while doing penance in the Sierra Morena, 
 deceived by the disguised Dorothea and the Barber.' 
 The picture belongs to the Earl of Essex, for whom it 
 was painted, and has been well engraved. 
 
 The Knight of the Rueful Countenance, " all naked 
 to his shirt, lean and yellow," courteously promises to 
 redress the wrongs of the " fair princess Micomecona, 
 Queen of the Great Kingdom of Micomeca in Ethi- 
 opia." Dorothea kneels before the knight in her gor- 
 
XXV111 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 geous attire — " a whole gown of very rich stuff, and a 
 short mantle of another green stuff, and a collar, and 
 many other rich jewels," — while her train is borne by 
 the masquerading Barber, who kneels before the mules, 
 with much-ado keeping on the beard that hangs down 
 to his girdle, " half red and half white, as being made of 
 the tail of a pied ox." Sancho whispers the mysterious 
 lady's quality in his master's ear, while the Don's ar- 
 mour hangs like a trophy on the cork-tree to the right. 
 
 The knight is an admirable conception, dignified, 
 courteous, and gentle in his craziness ; and quite indif- 
 ferent to his scanty costume, in his anxiety to relieve the 
 injured princess. Leslie was the very man to appre- 
 ciate the noble side of Don Quixote's character; and 
 even if his own refinement had not revealed this side 
 to him, he had ample opportunity of learning it from 
 Coleridge's exposition of the profound conception of 
 Cervantes. This picture is another good example of 
 the painter's best time as a colourist ; but it is not supe- 
 rior in this respect to the little sketch of the subject in 
 the National Collection, which is quite Venetian in its 
 glow of harmonious colour. 
 
 I know only from the engraving the head of Don 
 Quixote painted in 1827. Perhaps Ogilvie sat for it — 
 an old friend of Irving's and Leslie's. He was certainly 
 one of his models for the knight. Another was an old 
 Frenchman — a protege of Constable's — called Fon- 
 taine. But I think I trace Leslie's own features in 
 the Don Quixote of Mr. Bates's picture, and I am told 
 by his son that he was much in the habit of studying 
 expressions from his own face. He painted a head of 
 Sancho too, in 1827. But the admirable ' Sancho ' in 
 the Sheepshanks' Collection is of the date of 1839. 
 This is the engraved head. Sancho sits at his Tan- 
 talus-table, in the sumptuous palace of his capital of 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxix 
 
 Barataria, the laced bib under his chin. You see the 
 hand of the physician Don Pedro Regio de Aquero, 
 holding the whalebone rod at whose touch the dishes 
 vanish from before the hungry Governor. We may 
 suppose the partridges to have been borne away by tap 
 of rod, followed by the boiled conies and the veal — 
 and last but worst — the olla podrida. Sancho's choler 
 is just rising to that point at which, after threats to do 
 for the physician, he bids them let him eat, or else take 
 his government again : for " an office that will not afford 
 a man his victuals, is not worth two beans." Leslie 
 painted the scene in full for Lady Chantrey, in 1855. 
 I will not venture to' speak of the merits of that pic- 
 ture from my half-effaced recollection of it in that year's 
 Exhibition, and it was not within my reach while pre- 
 paring these remarks. But the Sheepshanks' 4 Sancho ' 
 all can see, at cost of a visit to South Kensington. 
 More truthful humour was never put on canvas of the 
 same dimensions by any painter at any period. The 
 hot, hungry impatience, and indignant questioning ex- 
 pression of the face are irresistible. It is only a pity 
 that, to enjoy the picture thoroughly, one must know 
 one's Don Quixote well. As a piece of sound, solid 
 painting, this head ranks high among Leslie's minor 
 works. Chantrey may have aided Leslie as a model 
 for the expression. But the head was painted, his son 
 George tells me, from the family fly-driver. The Dul- 
 cinea which hangs near it might as well be called by 
 any other name. It is neither the Dulcinea indicated 
 in Cervantes, nor a Spanish peasant-girl at all. Proba- 
 bly the painter never gave it the name of Dulcinea. 
 
 The picture painted for Mr. Bates in 1849 represents 
 the Duke's chaplain leaving the table in disgust at his 
 lord's encouragement of Don Quixote's delusions. The 
 canvas is of the largest dimensions ever ventured on by 
 
XXX 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Leslie. In a rich hall of noble decorated architecture 
 is spread a stately table, covered with silver plate, fruit, 
 and wine in chased flagons. Don Quixote, in the cen- 
 tre, in his straight hose and chamois doublet, draped in 
 " the fair mantle of finest scarlet," which the two beau- 
 tiful damsels had cast upon his shoulders on entering 
 the castle, drawn up to his full height, and " trembling 
 from head to foot like a man filled with quicksilver," is 
 delivering that impassioned and grave rebuke to the 
 vulgar -Canon — " Is it, happily, a vain plot or time ill 
 spent, to range through the world not seeking its dain- 
 ties but the bitterness of it, whereby good men aspire 
 to the seat of immortality? .... Some go by the 
 spacious field of proud ambition ; others by the way of 
 servile and base flattery; a third sort by deceitful hypoc- 
 risy; and few by that of true religion. But I, by my 
 star's inclination, go in the narrow path of knight- 
 errantry ; for whose exercise I despise wealth, but not 
 honour; I have satisfied grievances, rectified wrongs, chas- 
 tised insolencies, overcome giants, trampled over spirits." 
 By the hidalgo's side stands Sancho, just risen to vindi- 
 cate himself and his master. The Duke, in black velvet 
 doublet and purple hose, is enjoying the wrath of the in- 
 dignant churchman, hiding his laughter behind his hand. 
 The face of the gentle Duchess, who looks up at the 
 angry confessor from among her attendant damsels, is 
 irradiated with one of those latent half-smiles, by the 
 charm of which Leslie has enabled us almost to excuse 
 in her the thoughtlessness that could find matter for 
 mirth and practical joking in the wreck of Don Quix- 
 ote's noble nature. The puzzled but well-disciplined 
 attendants stand round, doing their best to suppress all 
 expression in their looks. In the fore-ground the indig- 
 nant ecclesiastic is sweeping out of the room with pro- 
 testing hands outstretched, and an angry flutter of his 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxxi 
 
 ample black robes, his fat, vulgarly-imperious face swol- 
 len and inflamed with rage — ".Your Excellency is as 
 mad as any of these sinners ; and see if they must not 
 needs be mad, when wise men canonise their madness. 
 Your Excellency may do well to stay with them, for 
 whilst they be here I'll get me home, and save a labour 
 of correcting what I cannot amend." 
 
 I am inclined to think this the finest picture, both in 
 point of expression and technical qualities, painted in 
 the latter half of Leslie's career. Its tone is luminous 
 and rich, without blackness. The architectural features 
 are peculiarly graceful and stately. The figure of the 
 chaplain is admirably conceived and perfectly natural ; 
 in the angry insolence of the attitude and countenance 
 you see the overbearing indignation of the narrow- 
 minded man, accustomed to lay down the law and 
 to be listened to — and now bearded by a madman ! 
 Don Quixote is thoroughly earnest and dignified ; San- 
 cho inimitably quaint and sturdy. The plate and des- 
 sert on the table are painted with the greatest- relish, 
 and a precision worthy of Teniers. Leslie had a pas- 
 sion for fine old silver, and preferred its pictorial effect 
 to that of gold plate. He made the most careful water- 
 colour studies of every thing on the table, down to the 
 figs, grapes, and melons, and borrowed the plate for 
 painting from Storr and Mortimer's, I believe. Mr. E. 
 M. Ward, the Royal Academician, stood for the figure 
 of the attendant, near the entrance in the back-ground, 
 and his brother for the Duke. • He had Spanish models 
 for some of the other heads. The Duchess, in her 
 dove-coloured robe and ruff, is only second, for high- 
 bred charm, to the Duchess of the Petworth picture.* 
 
 * I gather from the extracts in the Royal Academy Catalogues, that Leslie 
 used Shelton's — the raciest and oldest — translation of the masterpiece of 
 Cervantes, made in the reign of Charles the Second. 
 
xxxii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 There is a little picture in the collection of Mr. Jo- 
 seph Gillott, at Birmingham, of the Duke and Duchess 
 reading ' Don Quixote.' It has a sober power in its 
 colour, and a quiet gracefulness in its composition that 
 make it very noticeable in spite of its small size. 
 
 After Addison and Cervantes, Leslie resorted for sub- 
 jects to Shakespeare, Moliere, Swift, Pope, Sterne, Field- 
 ing, Goldsmith, and Smollett. Besides his illustrations 
 of books, he painted portraits, a few subjects from Eng- 
 lish and Spanish history, some from the New Testa- 
 ment, and a very few from his own invention. I propose 
 to notice briefly the principal works in each of these 
 classes. As he began and ended with Shakespeare, — 
 painting ' Murder' from 'Macbeth,' as his first picture, 
 in 1813, and ' Hotspur and Lady Percy,' as his last, in 
 1859 — and as he took more of his important compo- 
 sitions from our great dramatic poet than from any 
 other single source, I notice the Shakespeare subjects 
 first. 
 
 ' The.' Merry Wives of Windsor,' for reasons one can 
 easily understand, was a special favorite with Leslie. 
 Its life-like, genial pictures of English country manners 
 in the days of Elizabeth, and its copious introduction 
 of marked types of humorous character, gratified the 
 painter's peculiar tastes, and suggested capital subjects 
 for his pencil. The play is eminently English in feel- 
 ing, and Leslie was " ipsis Anglis Anglior" He loved 
 and knew the quiet meadows and shady elms of Wind- 
 sor, and all the green borders of Ihe Thames from 
 Hampton to Maidenhead. I have no doubt he believed, 
 with perfect faith, in the inmates and visitors at Ford's 
 and Page's. They were to him actual men and women, 
 and not clothes-pegs. He painted the scene of ' Slen- 
 der' s Courtship ' three times, besides the early picture 
 of the garden scene, with Anne inviting her bashful 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTUEES. 
 
 xxxiii 
 
 admirer in to dinner. I have seen none of these pic- 
 tures, and only know their composition from the plates. 
 The former has been well engraved for the American 
 Art Union, from which I infer that one of the three ver- 
 sions of the subject is now in America. 
 
 The scene is an oak-panneled parlour in Page's house. 
 Anne stands in the bay window, with the summer light 
 glowing in her pretty face and on her rounded figure, as 
 she plucks a flower to pieces to give herself a counte- 
 nance. Slender stands afar off, hat in hand and looking 
 half sheepish, half scared, and wholly silly ; while Shal- 
 low, in his velvet coif, with an emphatic crutch -handled 
 stick to give point to his periods, spurs him on to his 
 wooing. Judging from the engraving, the picture must be 
 a peculiarly sunny one, suggesting pleasant country life 
 in low-roofed old oak-panneled rooms, with buck's heads 
 over the doors, moral saws carved over the heavy man- 
 tel-pieces, iron dogs on the hearths, a pleasant breath 
 of lavender and honeysuckle from the garden without, 
 and glimpses of the castle and the park oaks, through 
 the broad, stone-shafted, deep-bayed lattice windows. 
 I have little doubt all these interiors were painted from 
 real houses. They have a look of such genuine truth. 
 It is in the chief room of such a house that he has twice 
 painted Page's dinner-party — with the pippins and 
 cheese on the side-table — first in 1831, and afterwards 
 in 1838. The second picture is at South Kensington. 
 He has been happier, I think, in later Falstaffs. The 
 fat knight, in chamois doublet and long boots — a bot- 
 tom of sherris-sack in his glass — is passing compli- 
 ments with Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page, who stand arm- 
 in-arm a little behind him — two plump, comely, sly- 
 looking matrons, in whose faces the painter has cleverly 
 indicated their mutual understanding and quiet resolve 
 to have their will of the greasy old cozener. Page, with 
 c 
 
xxxiv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 his broad back to the spectators, swings back in his 
 chair, offering a cool tankard to poor Slender, who, with 
 Simple in attendance behind him, fidgets uncomfort- 
 ably on the edge of his stool, his embarrassing beaver 
 and gloves beside him, not daring to lift his eyes to 
 demure Mistress Anne, sitting coyly apart on her own 
 side of the table. Ford is draining his glass higher up 
 the board, beyond the group formed by Bardolph and 
 Pistol, who are noisily claiming Sir John's ear. Shal- 
 low, at the opposite end of the table to Page, is directing 
 Sir Hugh Evans's attention to the progress of Slender's 
 sheepish wooing. Through the broad window behind 
 the justice the creepers and trees of the garden make a 
 pleasant rest for the eye. The side-table, on the right 
 of the fore-ground, is spread with the immortal pippins 
 and cheese, painted with that truth and relish which 
 Leslie always puts into the accessories of his pictures, 
 but not so daguerreotypically wrought as to divide and 
 distract attention from more important matters. Over 
 the broad fire-place is one of those gnomic inscriptions, 
 once common in English country-houses, and the logs 
 are smouldering — summer as it is — against the fire- 
 dogs on the open hearth. The picture is a fine example 
 of the painter's middle manner, without any dangerous 
 use of asphaltum, (of which the visitor may see the 
 charm and danger exemplified in Newton's < Bassanio ' 
 in the same room,) and equally free from such excess of 
 chalky-white as is apparent in the ' Who can this be ? ' 
 just over it. Attention should also be directed to the 
 masterly perspective of the picture, both linear and 
 aerial. This is evidently a chamber to be walked about 
 in, with room and verge for the fair long table, the guests 
 and servants. 
 
 A later ' FalstafT' may be compared with this, in Mr. 
 Harris's picture of the fat knight personating the king 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. Xxxv 
 
 before Prince Hal, Poins, Dame Quickly, and the other 
 actors in the scene at the Boar's Head, from ' Henry the 
 Fourth.' This picture was painted in 1851, and, though 
 it is surpassed in technical qualities by the Sheepshanks 
 picture, I prefer its Falstaff, for conception and charac- 
 ter, to the earlier one. No doubt Leslie felt and meant 
 to indicate the superior humour and raciness of Shakes- 
 peare's great creation in its original form. Here Fal- 
 staff has just assumed his cushion-crown and his foot- 
 stool-state, and is lecturing the Prince who stands be- 
 fore him with a well-expressed air of mock respect. 
 Francis, the lank drawer, setting down a pottle of sack, 
 glances up with the expression of one who humbly 
 asks leave to enjoy the fun, while his mistress, Dame 
 Quickly, in full giggle, seems to say, ' Oh, the Father! 
 How he keeps his countenance.' Poins looks criticiz- 
 ingly on, leaning on one of the joint-stools, which we 
 may suppose he has an itch to vault over, half-jealous of 
 the way the knight is making as his young master's tav- 
 ern-joker in ordinary. But even in this orgie Leslie has 
 contrived to give us a refreshing glimpse of pure and 
 lovely nature, in the flowers strewed over the floor, 
 which he has painted with most affectionate delicacy 
 and faithfulness. Whole sheets of studies in oil for 
 these flowers were among the relics of the painter sold 
 at Foster's a few weeks ago. They must have cost him 
 many a day's labour. But this he never spared — paint- 
 ing and repainting even the minutest accessories, till he 
 had brought every detail in his picture up to his own 
 high standard. Nor was his labour done when he had 
 painted such things from nature. There was as much 
 thoughtful work afterwards in subordinating and gener- 
 alizing these studies^ to suit their place, purpose, and 
 relative importance in his composition. In this point, 
 as in so many others, Leslie's example is of especial 
 
xxx vi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 value in these days of over-emphasized and unbalanced 
 elaboration. His picture from < The Taming of the 
 Shrew ' I have already noticed. From the < Winter's 
 Tale' he painted two subjects — the ' Autolycus,' a pic- 
 ture projected and partly painted before 1823, but not 
 exhibited till 1836 ; and the < Perdita,' exhibited the fol- 
 lowing year. Both are now in the Sheepshanks collec- 
 tion, and deserve to rank among the best works of this 
 period. The former represents the scene where Autoly- 
 cus is puffing his pedlar's wares among the shepherds 
 and shepherdesses outside the old shepherd's cote. The 
 knave, with his box of trinkets and trumpery about his 
 neck, is just twanging off the title of his wonderful 
 ballad " of a fish that appeared upon the coast, on 
 Wednesday the four-score of April, fifty thousand 
 fathom above water, and sung the ballad against the 
 hard hearts of maids." Mopsa and Dorcas are scanning 
 the pedlar's toys with greedy eyes, while another shep- 
 herdess listens entranced to the tale, " very pitiful and 
 as true," and the clown, eager for ballads, bids the rogue 
 " lay it by." The sky is a bright and breezy blue, with 
 white clouds. Beyond is a stretch of level mead, with 
 the far-off sheep feeding, and to the right of the group 
 is the mountain ash, with its red berries, which Leslie 
 introduced by the advice of Constable. 
 
 In this picture, at least, the influence of the last 
 named painter upon Leslie is seen under its pleasantest 
 form — in the delightful character of summery open- 
 air freshness and breeziness, which indeed it needed no 
 secondary influence to make Leslie feel, but in the rep- 
 resentation of which Constable's counsel and example 
 powerfully helped him. For my own part, I feel this to 
 be, on the whole, the most cheery and ' happy ' work of 
 the painter. It is free from chalkiness, and its colour is 
 bright and harmonious. I should have been thankful 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxxvii 
 
 for the absence of the vermilion cap which Autolycus 
 wears ; but to Leslie no picture was complete without 
 its vermilion element, though I think he has seldom 
 managed it with the felicity which gives the colour such 
 value in the De Hooghes and Terburgs, from whose 
 practice he adopted it. Irving particularly admired the 
 expression and character of Autolycus, and, as I think 
 all who study the picture, must admit, with good reason. 
 In the ' Perdita ' by its side, the painter has not fallen 
 behind the exquisite sentiment of Shakespeare's scene, 
 in which the royal shepherdess distributes the flowers to 
 her guests. Perdita herself, is one of the sweetest and 
 most graceful creatures ever embodied upon canvas ; 
 and the painter has never, as far as I know, exceeded 
 this most graceful conception for loveliness and unaf- 
 fected charm. Exception may be taken to the colour 
 and texture of the scarf over her shoulders, which looks 
 more like oiled silk than any other material. Nor can I 
 admire the disguised Polixenes and Camillo ; nor does 
 the Florizel seem to me worthy of such a Perdita. Les- 
 lie painted a Hermione from the same play for Mr. 
 Brunei, but I cannot speak of this picture from recent 
 examination. 
 
 ' Henry the Eighth ' was another of Leslie's favour- 
 ites among the historical plays. He has painted no 
 fewer than five pictures from it — two repetitions of 
 Catherine's dying scene, where through Capucius she 
 commends her daughter and her women to the king: 
 and two of the same sick and dethroned queen in her 
 palace at Bridewell, where she addresses one of her 
 women — 
 
 " Take thy lute, wench; my soul grows sad with troubles, 
 Sing and disperse them if thou canst." 
 
 The former date in 1850. Of the latter the first was 
 
xxxviii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Leslie's diploma picture in 1826 : the second was 
 painted in 1842. There is in all a pathos befitting their 
 incidents. I cannot help thinking the smaller repetition 
 of the former subject, in the collection of John Naylor, 
 Esq., finer in chiaroscuro and colour than the original pic- 
 ture painted for Mr. Brunei. Another picture from the 
 same play represents the moment, from the fourth scene 
 of the first act, when Henry at the masque in York 
 Place pulls off his vizard and makes himself known to 
 the Lord Cardinal. A warm glow of lamplight is dif- 
 fused over the picture. The king — the central figure 
 in the group of masquers and ladies, in a tunic of gold 
 and scarlet, leading fair Anne Boleyn in his hand — 
 reveals himself to Wolsey with a laughing face and a 
 jovial rollicking swing of his brawny body — not yet 
 that mountain of flesh which Holbein painted. Wol- 
 sey comes forward from his seat on the dais under the 
 canopy of state, to " make his royal choice " — a wily, 
 smooth, politic priest, with a subtle blending of inward 
 imperiousness and outward respect in his bearing. But 
 the picture does not rise, either in expression or execu- 
 tion, beyond the second rank among the painter's works. 
 
 If Leslie ever painted a sweeter head than the Per- 
 dita, it is certainly the ' Beatrice,' running like a lap- 
 wing, her mantilla thrown over her shining brown hUr, 
 through the sun and shade of the pleached garden alley, 
 to listen to the gossip of Hero and Ursula. No wonder 
 he was often called on for repetitions of this bewitching 
 picture. The original is in the gallery of Mr. Gibbons, 
 and I have often wondered how it has so long escaped 
 the graver. This is Beatrice in her arch natural loveli- 
 ness of feature and mien — not Benedick's biting, gib- 
 ing, persecutrix. In its sober yet sunny harmony of col- 
 our the slightly-painted garden background forms a set- 
 ting worthy of the sweet face and lovely stooping figure. 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xxxix 
 
 ' Twelfth Night ' supplied him with a twice-painted 
 subject — Sir Toby Belch encouraging Sir Andrew 
 Aguecheek to accost Olivia's roguish maid Maria. 
 The original picture was painted in 1842 for Mr. 
 Thomas Baring : the repetition in 1850 for Mr. Edwin 
 Bullock. It is hard to say which is the better picture, 
 and this is true of several of Leslie's repetitions. In 
 both, the Sir Toby is admirable — a better embodi- 
 ment of Shakespeare's conception, I am inclined to 
 think, than Leslie's Falstaff. Probably the latter de- 
 fies the painter for the same reason that he defies 
 the actor ; the character has too many shades, too sub- 
 tly blended, for complete realization either on the boards 
 or on canvas. It is worth noting how nicely Leslie 
 has discriminated Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Slender, 
 two characters which on the surface seem so like each 
 other. The feeble conceit and pretension of the shallow 
 Illyrian knight are rendered with a thorough appreciation, 
 which imparts an expression to his face and figure quite 
 different from that of the sheepish, but comparatively 
 simple-minded Windsor franklin. The Maria is an arch 
 little shrew ; very different in dress and feature in the 
 two pictures, but in both true to the character drawn by 
 Shakespeare. In point of transparency and richness of 
 colour, especially in the background — an oak panelled 
 room, with a palma-like portrait on the wall half hidden 
 by a crimson curtain — the latter picture is the better of 
 the two, but it shows rather a greater tendency to that 
 blackness which was always one of Leslie's besetting 
 sins, as he was quite conscious. He twice painted the 
 subject of Olivia showing her face to Viola, from the 
 same play, and a sketch for a third version of this inci- 
 dent was on his easel at the time of his fatal attack. 
 Mrs. German Reed, when Miss Priscilla Horton, sat to 
 him in Covent Garden green-room in her costume of 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Fortunio, as a mode] for the Viola. But I have not 
 seen the pictures. The sketch sold after his death was 
 very sunny and brilliant in effect. 
 
 From Milton Leslie painted but one subject — the 
 Lady in Comus with the Enchanter presenting to her 
 the Circean Cup. His fresco from this incident in the 
 summer-house in Buckingham Palace garden, though 
 cold and dry in colour, and poor in the nude portions 
 of the composition, is successful, as might have been 
 expected, in the Lady, its central figure, which is purely 
 conceived, chaste in expression, and graceful in action. 
 
 Tristram Shandy was one of Leslie's favourite books, 
 and has furnished the subject of one of "his best pic- 
 tures — Uncle Toby in the sentry-box, innocently under- 
 going the fire of Widow Wadman (1851). Three ver- 
 sions of this subject are in the National Collection, 
 bequeathed respectively by Mr. Sheepshanks, Mr. Ver- 
 non, and Mr. Jacob Bell, and the plate by Lumb Stocks 
 is one of the most popular engravings after Leslie. As 
 usual, the three pictures vary in detail. In the Vernon 
 picture, for example — the second painted — Uncle Toby 
 wears a red waistcoat, and the widow has no apron, 
 while her lawn kerchief is thicker and more closely 
 pinned than in the earliest and latest versions, in both 
 of which Uncle Toby wears a buff waistcoat, and the 
 widow a lawn apron as well as kerchief. On the whole, 
 the Sheepshanks picture must be pronounced, I think, 
 the most vigorous in colour and the most perfect in ex- 
 pression ; but Uncle Toby's hands are too delicate for 
 the rest of his figure, and inferior to those in either of 
 the later pictures. ' Inimitable Jack Bannister,' one of 
 the pleasantest of actors, most genial of companions 
 and kindest of men, and a genuine lover of Art into the 
 bargain, sat for the Uncle Toby ; and it would be hard 
 to find a better model for him. This picture is per- 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xli 
 
 haps the best illustration of Leslie's perfect taste. Any 
 painter with a stain of impurity in his imagination 
 would have risked offence in touching such a subject. 
 There is more prurience in Sterne's pen than in Leslie's 
 pencil. In his hands the widow becomes so loveable a 
 person, that we overlook the fierceness of the amorous 
 siege she is laying to Uncle Toby's heart ; while Uncle 
 Toby himself is so thoroughly the gentleman, — so un- 
 mistakeably innocent and unsuspecting, and single- 
 hearted, — that the humour of the situation seems filtered 
 of all its grossness. I like less Leslie's other picture 
 from Tristram Shandy, of Tristram discovering his 
 unfortunate " remarks " twisted up into papillotes in 
 the hair of the chaise-vamper's wife (1833). He seems 
 to me to have missed his usual grace in the figure of 
 the French- woman, and the colouring appears to my 
 eye heavy and disagreeable. Constable, Leslie tells us 
 in one of his letters, arranged the chiaroscuro of this 
 composition for him. 
 
 The only picture which Leslie painted from Gold- 
 smith, — whom one would have supposed likely to be 
 one of his favourite authors, — is the ' Fudge ' scene 
 from the 4 Vicar of Wakefield' (1843), now in the col- 
 lection of Mr. Miller at Preston. I regret that I am 
 unable to speak of this picture from recent examina- 
 tion. 
 
 Fielding has furnished him with the subject of one 
 of his prettiest small pictures — Tom Jones showing 
 Sophia Western her own face in the glass as the best 
 security for his own future good behaviour. The pic- 
 ture was painted in 1849, and repeated in 1850 for Mr. 
 John Harris. I only know the latter ; but I find it diffi- 
 cult to believe that the original Sophia Western could 
 have been lovelier than she is in the repetition. Besides 
 the exquisite ladylike grace of the Sophia, the picture 
 
xlii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 is remarkable for the great skill with which the painter 
 has managed the light from the windows between which 
 hangs the mirror reflecting Sophia's sweet face. This 
 is one of many examples of the profit to which Leslie 
 had put his studies of De Hooghe. Another is to be 
 found in Mr. Bicknell's picture, ' The Heiress,' — a 
 young lady just come into a large fortune, and embar- 
 rassed by the multiplicity of the correspondence, and 
 the excessive kindness of the friends her money has 
 brought upon her. Here the light falls through tall red- 
 curtained windows, throwing a mellow glow over the 
 furniture of the handsome room, in which the graceful 
 young heiress is receiving her guests and dictating to 
 her amanuensis. The effect was probably suggested by 
 a well-known evening piece of De Hooghe's in the col- 
 lection of the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 Moliere was another of the great humourists often 
 laid under contribution by Leslie. He painted three 
 times over the scene of M. Jourdain's discomfiture in his 
 newly acquired art of fencing under the vigorous, inar- 
 tistic thrusts of his servant-girl, to the immense delight 
 of his shrewish wife, who stands by. The Sheepshanks 
 version of the subject (1841) is slight and sketchy, but 
 full of spirit in the action, and of truthful indication in 
 the light and shadow. The repetition in Mr. Gillott's 
 collection appears to me richer in colour and more sol- 
 idly painted. The Jourdain in both is perfect as a con- 
 ception of character, and it would be impossible to 
 convey better the suddenness and irresistible fury of 
 Nicole's attack. She has not even thought it worth 
 while to lay aside her besom. The scene where Trisso- 
 tin reads his sonnet to the blue-stockings of the Hotel 
 Rambouillet (painted for Mr. Sheepshanks in 1845) is a 
 picture of far higher technical merit. Though as a 
 whole it is disagreeably chalky in texture, there is great 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTUKES. 
 
 xliii 
 
 power over the resources of the art shown in the way 
 the light from the lustres is distributed over the scarlet 
 hangings, and reflected in the tall mirror. Hogarth him- 
 self would not have surpassed the action and expression 
 of the reading pedant, and the die-away ecstacies of his 
 lady-audience, whose affectation is relieved by the sweet 
 face of Henriette, one of the most graceful of Leslie's 
 many exquisite conceptions of female beauty. 
 
 Another subject from Moliere in the Sheepshanks col- 
 lection is that scene of the ' Malade Imaginaire,' where 
 the unhappy Argan is abandoned by his indignant phy- 
 sician to all the terrors of his own unaided constitution. 
 I have little doubt that Leslie painted the expression of 
 the pleading hypochondriac from his own face. The 
 Toinette is peculiarly successful. The picture was 
 painted in 1843, but is not one of the pleasantest of its 
 period in colour or execution. 
 
 From the ' Rape of the Lock ' Leslie took one of his 
 largest and most elaborate compositions. The first pic- 
 ture was painted for Mr. Gibbons in 1854. It was 
 repeated for Mr. Bullock two years later, with many 
 variations in detail. The scene represents the moment 
 when Belinda mourns over the discovery of the ravished 
 lock. She is weeping in the foreground surrounded by 
 a sympathetic group of ladies. The Amazonian Tha- 
 lestris, in tricorne and riding habit, indignant at the 
 Peer's boldness, grasps her whip with an evident long- 
 ing to use it over the insolent beau's shoulders. In 
 the background Sir Plume is occupied on his unavailing 
 mission, and the Peer displays the captured lock in 
 triumph. The scene in which the action passes was 
 painted from one of the rooms in Hampton Court Pal- 
 ace, and most of the details of the furniture were from 
 Petworth studies. Mr. Millais stood for the Peer, and I 
 trace the features of two of the painter's daughters iii 
 
xliv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the group round the aggrieved Belinda. When he re- 
 peated the subject for Mr. Bullock, he introduced por- 
 traits of that gentleman's daughter, in place of his own. 
 As a composition this is among the best works of Les- 
 lie's pencil, though there is an unpleasant predominance 
 of that chalkiness in colour which grew upon him dur- 
 ing the last ten years of his practice. The peer is the 
 weakest figure in the composition. Strange to say, he 
 does not look like a gentleman of the time of Pope, 
 but like a modern gentleman masquerading. The Sir 
 Plume is as genuine as the Lord Petre is unreal. The 
 tall and commanding lady in the crimson sacque, whose 
 back is turned to the spectator in the foreground, is a 
 masterly example of drawing and colour, and the pic- 
 cure is deserving of close study by young artists for the 
 great art shown in its easy, natural, and yet most pro- 
 foundly calculated composition. It is a capital exam- 
 ple, too, of Leslie's admirable management of light and 
 shadow. 
 
 But, on the whole, I cannot but prefer to it, — for 
 power in the rendering of character and for nice discrim- 
 ination of humorous expresssion, — the 1 Reading of 
 the Will,' from Roderick Random (1846), also in Mr. 
 Gibbons' collection. Here, though all the figures, with 
 the exception of Lieutenant Bowling and little Rode- 
 rick, are in deep mourning, so masterly has been the 
 painter's management of colour and light and shadow, 
 that there is no heaviness or monotony in the general 
 effect of the picture. Lieut. Bowling was painted, I 
 believe, from an old harbour-master at Broadstairs, and 
 is a capital conception. One of Mr. Stanfield's sons 
 sat for the Roderick, and one of the painter's daughters 
 for the fainting legacy -hunter, who is upset by the dis- 
 covery that her name is not among the squire's legatees. 
 This is, I think, the picture in which Leslie most chal- 
 
ON LESLIE'S PICTURES. 
 
 xlv 
 
 lenges comparison with Hogarth,- both as a painter and 
 as the teller of a story ; and his work bears the difficult 
 test bravely. In point of composition the picture is as 
 deserving of study as the ' Rape of the Lock,' which 
 hangs opposite to it. 
 
 It is not my intention to say much of Leslie as a 
 portrait-painter, though his head of Archbishop Howley, 
 and his full length of Lord Cottenham, in his Chancel- 
 lor's robes, show that he might have taken a high rank 
 in this branch of his art, had he followed it. He rarely, 
 however, painted life-size portraits, and in the absence 
 of such evidence of his power as only portraits on the 
 scale of nature can supply, it may be well not to insist 
 on his claims in this particular department of art. We 
 may be certain he never would have failed in his render- 
 ing of character. I have not seen his picture of £ Lady 
 Jane Grey refusing the Crown,' but the engraving sug- 
 gests an effect of colour which shows the influence of 
 another of his favourite masters, Paul Veronese. I re- 
 member the delight which I experienced before his little 
 picture of the same gentle lady found by Roger Ascham 
 sitting over Plato in the oriel, while the chase sweeps 
 on without. But I have not seen the picture (which 
 is in Mr. Miller's fine collection at Preston) since it was 
 exhibited in 1848. I can recall its silvery summer light, 
 the serene sweet face and slender figure, and the glimpse 
 of the green park, with its swelling uplands and stately 
 trees — a reminiscence of Petworth. There is another 
 pathetic little historical picture at Kensington, of the 
 Infant Princes at their prayers, in their dark Tower bed- 
 chamber, on the night of their murder. The subject is 
 taken from an affecting scene in Heywood's tragedy of 
 ' Edward the Fourth,' and was twice painted by Les- 
 lie. Of his Court pictures — the 4 Coronation,' and the 
 r Christening of the Princess Royal ' — I will only say 
 
xlvi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 that he appears to have encountered the difficulties of 
 the subjects boldly, and to have vanquished as many 
 of them as a painter of such scenes in this age can be 
 expected to do. To make courtly ceremonials effective 
 incidents for the pencil, there needs, at once, in the 
 painter a kindred power to that of Veronese and Titian, 
 and in the subject something of that splendour of pag- 
 eantry and glory of costume which embellished mediae- 
 val life. Jn our day it is hardly possible to keep down 
 the most fatal suggestions of the upholsterer and the 
 milliner. But, even if the difficulty had been less, Les- 
 lie was not a decorative painter. He was unaccustomed 
 to the scale demanded by such subjects, and had noth- 
 ing of the splendour of colouring which can invest with 
 a charm even the fittings of Banting and Gillow, or the 
 inventions of the Court modiste and plumassier. Leslie 
 succeeded admirably in the portrait portion of these dif- 
 ficult pictures. The group of attendant ladies in the 
 coronation picture, especially, is painted with an intense 
 sentiment of that grace and beauty which the subject 
 supplied, and the painter was peculiarly qualified to 
 reproduce. Again, the passages in either picture which 
 most appeal to the heart, are painted with true feeling ; 
 as, for example, the Maiden Queen, kneeling with bared 
 and bowed head at the altar under the heavy burden 
 of her coronation robes, while the sunbeams shed their 
 glory upon her, like the blessing of heaven made vis- 
 ible ; or the crowned young mother's look, as she turns 
 to her first-born with that yearning which makes all 
 women kin. 
 
 I have spoken elsewhere of Leslie's pictures from 
 sacred subjects, and from those domestic incidents, such 
 as furnish the subjects of < The Shell,' and £ The First 
 Lesson,' in the treatment of which the painter was so 
 peculiarly happy. 
 
LESLIE AS AN AKTIST. 
 
 xlvii 
 
 My narrowing space warns me to draw this introduc- 
 tion to a close, but before I retire to let Leslie speak for 
 himself, I am tempted to close these desultory notices of 
 particular pictures by some general remarks on the quali- 
 ties of the painter, and on his place among the artists of 
 this country and time. 
 
 GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF LESLIE 
 AS AN ARTIST. 
 
 In passing from the consideration of particular pic- 
 tures of Leslie's to his general characteristics as a 
 painter, I feel distrustful of my own judgment. Mem- 
 ory of the delight which his exhibited pictures have 
 afforded me year after year makes me shrink from the 
 attempt to analyze the sources of my gratification. I 
 feel too grateful to the man who has given his genera- 
 tion so much refined and innocent pleasure, to be dis- 
 posed to scan the " why " and the " how " of his work- 
 ing, or to be sure how much of what I write is present 
 judgment, how much recollected enjoyment. In almost 
 all that Leslie attempted he appears to me to have suc- 
 ceeded in a rare degree. Few painters have better known 
 the range of their own powers, or more honestly fol- 
 lowed the guidance of their real tastes and feelings. But 
 most, even of his warmest admirers, will probably agree 
 with me in the opinion, that he has satisfied us least in 
 the few subjects he has painted from Holy Writ. Not 
 that he wanted reverence, or earnestness, or elevation of 
 sentiment, for such themes. But in the treatment of 
 them we have been accustomed to look either for such 
 epic largeness and simplicity of handling as they have 
 received from the greatest Italians, or for that vivid nat- 
 
xlviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 uraiism and local colour with which Wilkie dreamed of 
 investing the incidents of Biblical life, and which Ver- 
 net in France, and Mr. H. Holman Hunt and others at 
 home, have actually applied to it. Leslie, by his prac- 
 tice as a painter of cabinet pictures, was unfitted for the 
 one mode of treatment, while his ignorance of Eastern 
 life and nature, if nothing else, debarred him from the 
 other. But even among these subjects there are homely 
 and domestic incidents which Leslie was quite fitted 
 to make both lovely and impressive, as I think he has 
 proved by his Martha and Mary, painted originally in 
 1847. A third repetition of this subject was among 
 the pictures left unfinished at his death. 
 
 But Leslie had no vocation for what may be called 
 epic painting, or, indeed, for any form of painting cal- 
 culated by scale and style to speak to numbers. He 
 seems, from passages in his writings, to have underval- 
 ued all that class of work which he considered as merely 
 subsidiary to architecture, but which ought rather to be 
 estimated as originally Bible record, legend, or history, 
 put into pictures for the sake of those who had no 
 books, and afterwards in the stateliest form of decora- 
 tion. He had no ambition to adorn public halls, or to 
 cover the walls of churches. He no doubt thought that 
 the time for giving instruction or information through 
 pictures has passed away, while stately decoration is in- 
 appropriate to our social life and usages — in this coun- 
 try, at least — and that painting now-a-days cannot use- 
 fully aspire to any higher functions than those of pleas- 
 ing and refining. And of all the ways in which the 
 painter can impart pleasure or promote culture, there 
 was evidently none which Leslie valued so highly as 
 his power to enhance our relish for good books, and to 
 enlarge our enjoyment of out-door nature. He wrought 
 in the one field himself: he thoroughly and generously 
 
LESLIE AS AN AKTIST. 
 
 xlix 
 
 appreciated those who laboured honestly and lovingly 
 in the other. His own art was eminently literary. But 
 he not the less passionately admired Constable's pictures 
 for their single-hearted reproduction of the skies and 
 streams, the downs and meadows, about Dedham and 
 East Bergholt. 
 
 Both in his appreciation of art and literature, Leslie 
 was eminently catholic, and in the main sound of judg- 
 ment. His lectures testify to the comprehensiveness of 
 his artistic canons, while how keenly and genuinely he 
 loved books is evident in his choice of subjects from first 
 to last. When we recall his pictures, it is in connection 
 with Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Le Sage, Moliere, 
 Addison, Sterne, Fielding, and Smollett. These were 
 the books his father loved, and on such strong and nutri- 
 tious literary food young Leslie was reared. He first 
 attracted notice by his ' Sir Roger de Coverley going to 
 Church ' (1819). ' Sir Roger de Coverley in Church ' 
 (1857),* was the last picture from his hand which re- 
 tained any strong impress of that which most charmed 
 us in him. He has left few works in which subject, as 
 well as embodiment, is of his own imagining. His 
 ' Mayday,' the < Mother and Child,' the < Who can this 
 be ? ' and ' Who can this be from ? ' are the best exam- 
 ples of such pictures. But as an illustrator and pic- 
 torial embodier of other men's conceptions, he ranks 
 among the first — if not as the very first — of English 
 painters. So entirely true and subtle is his rendering 
 of character and expression, so fine his appreciation of 
 his author's sentiment, so hearty his relish for the sub- 
 ject in hand, that his pictures seem to me quite to 
 escape the charge so justly brought against most pic- 
 tures taken from books, that they weaken instead of 
 strengthen our conception and enjoyment of the scene 
 
 * In the Collection of Mrs. Miller, at Preston. 
 d 
 
1 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 represented. What painter has entered so completely 
 as Leslie into the mind of Shakespeare and Cervantes, 
 of Moliere and Addison ? His Sancho seems to me 
 absolutely to satisfy one's conception of the burly 
 squire. I should say the same of his Autolycus and 
 Perdita ; his Beatrice and his Catherine ; his Uncle To- 
 by and the Widow Wadman ; his Trissotin and Mon- 
 sieur Jourdain ; and all those saucy, sprightly suivantes 
 of Moliere's comedies — the Nicoles and Toinettes, and 
 Mariannes. In his choice of subjects from his favourite 
 authors, I fancy one may trace the same hearty and 
 intimate appreciation. He does not pick out his inci- 
 dents, only or mainly, because they admit of picturesque 
 costume, effective grouping, or stirring and varied ac- 
 tion, but because they reflect the inner and more subtle 
 sentiment of the play or novel, or poem which furnishes 
 them. It has always seemed to me that our liking and 
 appreciation of the Duchess in Don Quixote must be 
 permanently heightened after we have learned to enjoy 
 her high-bred humour and courteous grace from Leslie's 
 picture of her; after we have caught that radiant but 
 restrained half smile, so exquisitely contrasted with the 
 broad and boisterous merriment of the attendants — the 
 mulatto girl above all — and the bilious contempt on 
 the starched, vinegar face of the Duenna. So, I think, 
 we must all acknowledge an enhanced sense of the 
 humour of Uncle Toby's dangerous tete-a-tete with the 
 Widow Wadman in the sentry-box, after studying the 
 two in Leslie's picture of that critical situation. 
 
 In selecting the most salient merits of this painter, I 
 am only echoing the general verdict when I pitch first 
 upon his power of rendering character, particularly of 
 the humorous kind. But this power was thoroughly 
 under the guidance of that chastening good taste which 
 can treat even coarse subjects without vulgarity, and 
 
LESLIE AS AN ARTIST. 
 
 li 
 
 make otherwise odious incidents tolerable by redeeming 
 glimpses of humanity and good feeling. In his " Read- 
 ing of the Will," from Roderick Random (1846), I would 
 note, in illustration of the latter characteristic, the real 
 grief of the little girl at the window — the one person- 
 age in that assembly of sharking fortune-hunters who is 
 thinking of the dead with regret. She is unnoticed by 
 the rest of the characters, and might easily escape obser- 
 vation, so unobtrusively is she introduced. But once 
 seen, she leavens the whole scene with that salt of hu- 
 man kindness, which without her would be wanting, 
 even in presence of the bluff honesty of Lieutenant 
 Bowling, and the innocent unconcern of little Roderick. 
 There are few of the painter's pictures in which he does 
 not contrive to introduce some such touch, to make us 
 love him, and feel kindly towards our kind. 
 
 Another charm in Leslie's work is the inborn and 
 genuine — if often homely — beauty and grace of his 
 women. Speaking from my own feeling, I should find 
 it difficult to parallel, for this quality, his Perdita in the 
 Sheepshanks picture, or his Beatrice in the Gibbons col- 
 lection. But all his women, even the humblest, have as 
 much beauty as is compatible with their class, charac- 
 ter, and occupation. This beauty never degenerates into 
 the meretricious or the tawdry. It is eminently the real 
 and work-day charm of human flesh and blood, whether 
 it be refined and high-bred as in the Duchess or the la- 
 dies of the " Rape of the Lock ; " or simple and naive 
 as in the Perdita ; or rustic and blowsy as in the Mopsa 
 and Dorcas; or ripe, melting, and provocative as in the 
 Widow Wadman. Closely akin to this sentiment of 
 genuine womanly loveliness, is Leslie's intense feeling 
 for the domesticities. No mother, I should think, can 
 see that little picture of his,* in which a lovely young 
 
 *In the Collection of Mrs. Gibbons, Regent's Park. 
 
lii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 woman nestles her face in the chubby neck of the crow- 
 ing baby on her knee, without a thrill of maternal love 
 at her heart. But whatever he has done in this way is 
 free from all mawkishness. There is no trading in the 
 " deep domestic," as a good saleable article for the mar- 
 ket. In this, as in all he did, good taste has chastened 
 and checked Leslie's pencil. His lectures show how . 
 highly he valued this guiding and restraining faculty, 
 and his pictures throughout supply the best illustra- 
 tions I know of the faculty in operation. 
 
 How genuine all these qualities were in Leslie is best 
 shown by his life and by his character, as indicated in 
 his conversation and his writing. How could he be 
 other than truthful, lovely, charitable, and tasteful in 
 his pictures, who in his home as in society, in his 
 teaching as in his conduct, was habitually sincere, affec- 
 tionate, equable, thoughtful of others, tolerant, loving to 
 dwell rather on the good than on the bad about him ? 
 It would be well if there were more lives that should 
 show so exact a parallel of good attributes in the work- 
 man and his works. 
 
 In going through Leslie's recollections and correspon- 
 dence, I have found myself often drawn to a compari- 
 son of him as a painter with his friend Washington 
 Irving as a writer. I trace a good many points of re- 
 semblance between them, as in the hearty love of both 
 for the nearer past of English life and manners ; their 
 unaffected sensibility to the graceful and refined in wo- 
 man, and tb the domestic affections ; their genial relish 
 for the humourous in character, with a not unkindred 
 appreciation of the pathetic ; their genuine Anglicism 
 of sentiment and spirit — Americans as both were by 
 blood : and lastly, their ever-present good taste in treat- 
 ing every subject they took in hand. It may seem not 
 a very high place in art to claim for Leslie, which sets 
 
LESLIE AS AN ARTIST. 
 
 til) 
 
 him on a level with Washington Irving in literature. 
 But Leslie loved Irving so well and admired his work 
 so heartily, that I am sure Leslie would not complain 
 of the parallel. 
 
 I am very imperfectly qualified to pronounce on the 
 technical merits and demerits of Leslie as a painter. I 
 venture what I say on this point subject to the 'correc- 
 tion of better informed judges. It is evident from his 
 works, as well as from what his letters tell us about 
 them, that he wrought his way in his art slowly and la- 
 boriously. His taste, he tells us, was long in forming. 
 He honestly confesses there was a time when he thought 
 West equal to Raffaelle, and when he was insensible to 
 the glory of Venetian colour ; and though by diligent 
 cultivation he tutored his mind and eye to juster appre- 
 ciation, it seems to me clear from his works that he had 
 not by nature the gift of colour, and never quite made 
 up for this want by self-culture. The colour of his ear- 
 lier works is mellower and richer than that of his later 
 ones. Failing sight may have had something to do 
 with this, as well as the influence of Constable ; but it 
 may, also, be partly due to a natural relaxation of effort 
 after alien perfections in one who had succeeded in win- 
 ning public favor by the qualities which were natural 
 to him. From about 1819 to 1838 — judging from the 
 pictures I have had opportunities of examining — Les- 
 lie seems to me to have been at his best as a colourist. 
 His pictures painted after 1838, exhibit an increasing 
 tendency to opacity and chalkiness, though he ever and 
 anon escapes from these besetting sins, and, as in his 
 Beatrice (1850), paints a head as perfect in the softness 
 of its texture, and the pearliness of its tone, as the most 
 exacting critic could require. 
 
 But making every allowance for such occasional 
 felicities, I fear it must be admitted that Leslie was not 
 d* 
 
liv 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 a great colourist, at least if one considers the quality 
 of his tints in themselves, rather than the choice and 
 arrangement of them in combination. This was not 
 for want of honest effort, for no man ever laboured 
 more strenuously, by observation and practice, to repro- 
 duce the true effects of light, or knew better what these 
 ought to be, or more enjoyed them in the works of other 
 masters. De Hooghe, Maas, and the Flemish school 
 generally, were his especial favourites for their mastery 
 in this respect, above all others. 
 
 And if Leslie's pictures lack the peculiar charm of 
 colour, so they are not marked by any special dexterity 
 of manipulation. There is none of what Hazlitt called 
 "the sword play" of the pencil about them. But against 
 their technical defects we must, I think, set off a rare 
 feeling for so much of atmospheric effect as is indepen- 
 dent of positive colour. Leslie's pictures are full of air ; 
 we can breathe in them and walk about among his 
 groups, and retire into his distances. 
 
 Of composition he seems to me a master ; quite as 
 happy in the disposition of his personages, and- in their 
 combination with the still life of his scene, as in the ren- 
 dering of character by face and action. As a draughts- 
 man, too, his merit is, unquestionably, of a very high 
 order. 
 
 Very few painters have made so good a use of the 
 model — getting reality and life from the living sitter, 
 without any sacrifice of the ideal intention of the 
 painter. His pictures, thanks to the thoroughness with 
 which the conception is thought out, are quite free from 
 all suggestion of the masquerade warehouse, or the old 
 furniture shop. He is a thorough master of perspective, 
 and has seldom been exceeded in the taste with which 
 he selects his accessories, and the well considered degree 
 of finish with which he paints them. In this, as in his 
 
LESLIE AS AN ARTIST. 
 
 Iv 
 
 conceptions of incident and character, guiding good taste 
 is everywhere apparent. 
 
 In the gradation of their finish, above all, Leslie's 
 pictures should supply valuable lessons to the young 
 painter of the present day. They will help to correct 
 that prevailing tendency to elaborate everything to the 
 utlnost of the painter's power, in disregard of the law 
 that such equality of elaboration may be fitted for stud- 
 ies of parts, but can never be compatible with the con- 
 ditions of a picture regarded as a whole. 
 
 Leslie's choice of materials and his mode of work, as 
 finally settled, were of that honest kind which postpones 
 immediate effect to permanence, and resists with rare 
 firmness the temptations of the exhibition room. There 
 is no fear of his pictures falling into ruin from his resort 
 to ill considered or reckless means of immediate effect. 
 His method of painting, as it appears from the descrip- 
 tion of it already given, was eminently solid, simple, and 
 straightforward. 
 
 Leslie's pictures must, I apprehend, be classed among 
 those, works of which the expressional qualities will al- 
 ways in popular estimation overbear the technical ones, 
 and in a great measure render all but artists indifferent 
 to the latter. Had he but united the power of colour 
 and the chiaroscuro of the Flemish school to his own fine 
 humour, refinement, and appreciation of the resources 
 of art, Leslie would have taken a place which still re- 
 mains for his successors to fill up in the hierarchy of 
 painting. 
 
 In the technical qualities, however, most essential to 
 the rendering of expression, Leslie's art, for most of us, 
 leaves little to desire. 
 
 I feel confident that when the pictorial art of our 
 time comes to be compared with that which preceded 
 and that which will follow it, Leslie's name must stand 
 
Ivi 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 honoured, for the prevailing presence in his works of 
 good taste, truth, character, humour, grace, and kindli- 
 ness, and for the entire absence of that vulgarity, bra- 
 vado, self-seeking, trick, and excess, which are by no 
 means inseparable from great attainments in painting, 
 and which the conditions of modern art are but too apt 
 to engender and to foster. 
 
 If I have succeeded in my earnest attempt to supply 
 that information about the painter's works, and that es- 
 timate of their qualities, which his native modesty has 
 restrained him from incorporating with his own autobio- 
 graphical recollections, I shall feel that I have paid off a 
 little of the great debt of enjoyment I owe to this 
 charming painter, and most excellent man. 
 
 4 
 
 LESLIE AS A WRITER ON ART. 
 
 A.MONG writers on art, I should give Leslie a high 
 place, for the sound sense which guides his judgment, 
 the taste which governs his criticism, and the freedom 
 from one-sidedness shown in his " Handbook for Young 
 Painters," as he modestly called the work into which he 
 re-cast the lectures delivered by him as Professor of 
 Painting in the Royal Academy. There is a great deal 
 in this treatise that many old painters may profitably 
 study and take to heart. The book is anything but am- 
 bitious in its scope or in its style of handling the sub- 
 ject. There is no attempt at systematising, and no pre- 
 tension to exhaustion of its theme. It is rather a col- 
 lection of well-weighed observations on the heads of 
 its several sections, which deal, in succession, with the 
 imitation of nature and style ; the imitation of art ; the 
 
LESLIE AS A WRITER ON ART. 
 
 MI 
 
 distinction between laws and rules ; classification ; self- 
 teaching ; genius, imagination, and taste ; the ideal and 
 beauty of form ; drawing ; invention and expression ; 
 composition ; colour and chiaroscuro, the cartoons of 
 Raphael ; the Flemish and Dutch painters of the seven- 
 teenth century; landscape and portraits. 
 
 It seems to me that there has been hardly any book 
 written on the theory of painting which enunciates a 
 larger proportion of sound principles, for its bulk, or one 
 more likely to guide the student safely, so far as it at- 
 tempts to guide him. 
 
 Were I to select for exception conclusions or opinions 
 from this treatise, they would be those which the author 
 puts forward as to decorative painting, in connection 
 with architecture, on which subject Leslie wrote in ig- 
 norance of the finest examples in this kind, which Italy 
 alone supplies. I think, too, that Leslie undervalued 
 both the historical importance and the expressional 
 qualities of early art ; and that this under-estimate has 
 misled the author in his criticism of the principles that 
 should guide the selection of pictures for our National 
 Gallery. 
 
 Among examples of artist biography, Leslie's " Life 
 of Constable" deserves, I think, to rank as a model. 
 Affection for his subject may have had as much to 
 do in guiding Leslie through this task, as any theory 
 of editorial duties. But to whatever cause we are to 
 ascribe the result, I know of no more striking example 
 of perfect good taste than Leslie's part in this book. It 
 seems to me difficult to praise too highly the subordina- 
 tion, all through, of the editor to his subject; his indus- 
 try in research ; his arrangement ; the skill with which he 
 has left the subject of the biography to tell his own 
 story in letters judiciously chosen and carefully linked 
 by brief explanatory statements ; the simple earnestness 
 
Iviii 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 with which the editor has conveyed his admiration and 
 affection for the subject of his memoir, till he creates a 
 Kindred feeling in those who read what he has written. 
 It may be the consciousness of my own difficulties and 
 shortcomings in attempts of the same kind, that makes 
 me so sensible of Leslie's editorial merits. 
 
 The good taste and good feeling so conspicuous in 
 his " Life of Constable," are equally apparent, I think, 
 in the Autobiography, from which I have but too long 
 detained the reader. 
 
AUTOBIOGEAPHY 
 
 OP 
 
 CHARLES ROBERT LESLIE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Voyage to America — Engagement at sea — French ship vanquished — Youth- 
 ful bravery — The Newfoundland dog — Residence at Lisbon — Departure 
 from Lisbon — Arrival at Philadelphia. 
 
 In looking back on the opportunities my profession has given 
 me of knowing many persons whose names will outlive the pres- 
 ent age, I cannot doubt that much which has interested me will 
 be read with interest by others. Without the hope that I can do 
 justice, in my relation, to what I have seen and heard, I am yet 
 tempted to commit to paper those of my recollections on which 
 I dwell with the most interest, and to connect with them some 
 account of my life. 
 
 My father, Robert Leslie, and my mother, Lydia Baker, were 
 Americans, natives of Cecil county in the state of Maryland. 
 Their forefathers had settled in that neighbourhood early in the 
 last century as farmers ; my father's ancestors being from Scot- 
 land, and my mother's from England. 
 
 My father was a man of extraordinary ingenuity in mechanics. 
 He settled in Philadelphia in the year 1786, as a clock and 
 watchmaker, having previously pursued that business at Elktown. 
 He was a member of the Philosophical Society, and was known 
 and respected by some of the most eminent scientific men in 
 America, among whom I well recollect Latrobe, the architect of 
 the Capitol at Washington. His business having become pros- 
 perous, he determined to extend it by taking a partner in Phila- 
 1 
 
2 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. I. 
 
 delphia, and by going himself to London to purchase the clocks 
 and watches wanted for the establishment. This he did about 
 the year 1793. He was accompanied by his family, which con- 
 sisted of my mother and three young children (girls), and his 
 sister, Margaret Leslie. 
 
 I was born in London on the 19th October, 1794, and my first 
 recollections are of our living in a house in Portman Place, Edge- 
 ware Road, two doors from that which I occupied after an inter- 
 val of thirty years. My brother, the youngest of my father's 
 children, and about two years younger than myself, was also 
 born in London. On the death of my father's partner, Mr. 
 Price, he returned to America with his family. 
 
 Our voyage was a remarkable one ; and, as my father kept a 
 journal, and as I have been favoured, within these few years, 
 with a sight of another kept by one of our fellow passengers, Mr. 
 Lawrence Greatrakes, I am enabled to give some account of the 
 principal events of it. 
 
 We sailed, on the 18th September, 1799, from Gravesend, in 
 the ship Washington, 875 tons burthen, carrying sixteen 24- 
 pounders (carronades), six long twelves, and two 6-pounders. 
 She was an English-built East Indiaman, but when we sailed in 
 her she was in the American merchant service, and armed in 
 consequence of the war between the United States and France. 
 She had a complement of sixty-two men and boys, and was 
 commanded by Captain James Williamson, a Scotchman. Mr. 
 Greatrakes remarks, that " Perhaps few instances ever occurred 
 of a vessel suffering greater difficulties, and not being lost, in 
 endeavouring to beat out of the Channel." And my father says : 
 " We were only just clear of the land when we had been thirty- 
 four days on board. 
 
 " On the 23rd October we passed through an English fleet 
 from the Mediterranean, and were brought to by the largest of 
 the ships — the Majestic, 74. The gun she fired as a signal had. 
 by the carelessness of the gunner, a ball in it, which came on 
 board of us, and, passing very near the heads of two of our pas- 
 sengers, sunk into a spar on the deck. 
 
 " On Thursday, the 24th," continues my father, " we were 
 called up by the mate and gunner, who informed us that there 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 
 
 3 
 
 was a French ship in sight, and that we must prepare for an 
 engagement. As soon as I got on deck, the captain requested 
 me to get Mrs. Leslie and the children up and dressed, as he 
 wished to have them ready to go below at a minute's warning. 
 We were steering west, with the wind right aft, and the French- 
 man following us at the distance of about four miles. It was, no 
 doubt, a ship we had seen the evening before, dogging the fleet 
 we had passed through, probably in the hope of cutting one or 
 two of them off. He did not seem to be gaining on us, so that, at 
 eight, we had breakfast as usual, soon after which we found that 
 our enemy could keep up with us with less sail than we had, by 
 which it was evident he could overtake us if he pleased. Our 
 captain determined, therefore, to slacken sail, and have our fate 
 decided while we had the day before us." 
 
 Mr. Greatrakes says : " The orders to clear for action were 
 productive of some droll scenes. Great was the confusion pro- 
 duced among the passengers — some half-asleep, some only half- 
 dressed, running every way but the right one, and carrying their 
 moveables everywhere but where they should ; bemoaning their 
 unhappy lot in coming to sea in time of war ; rolling up their 
 bedding, and tumbling their trunks down the orlop deck stairs ; 
 and some of them tumbling themselves after them ; inquiring of 
 every one whom they judged in the least likely to know, whether 
 it would be a hard fight ; whether the French would take all the 
 passengers' property ; whether they should be put into prison ; 
 whether they should ever get home; &c, &c." 
 
 To return to my father's journal : " At half-past nine we had 
 everything in readiness, and every man to his station : the guns 
 all primed, the matches lit, and all the women and children 
 ordered down into the hold. . . . At a quarter before ten 
 the Frenchman fired one gun, though at too great a distance to 
 reach us. In five minutes more they were near enough, when 
 our captain fired our first gun with his own hand, it being one 
 that stood on the quarter-deck ; the men gave three cheers, and 
 the action commenced very briskly on both sides, the two ships 
 being near enough to use muskets and have a distinct view of 
 each other. The French ship appeared new, and in every 
 respect like a frigate, except in size. Their musket-balls for a 
 
4 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap, l 
 
 few minutes were sent so rapidly against the side of our ship, 
 that the noise to us was like a hail-storm against a window, and 
 yet we had not a man killed by them. One grazed our steward's 
 neck, and another went through the fleshy part of a man's arm. 
 No muskets were fired from our ship, except by some of the pas- 
 sengers, as our men were all required to work our heavy guns ; 
 in which we were, in one respect, very unfortunate, as almost 
 every one of the 24-pounders that was fired tumbled over. I 
 counted at one time five of them lying on their sides on the 
 gun-deck. The carriages were made on a new patent plan, but 
 so high and narrow that they could not bear the recoil. One of 
 them in falling broke the leg of our carpenter. The two ships 
 were but for a few minutes near enough to use muskets ; after 
 which some of the passengers who had been engaged with them 
 went to assist in making wads and handing cartridges, and the 
 rest went below. The action was now continued with the cannon 
 on both sides ; ours were pointed at the hull of the enemy, and 
 we saw the effects of them in several places. They generally 
 aimed at our rigging with double-headed shot, grape-shot, large 
 spike nails, bars of iron from six to twelve inches long, and some 
 of them an inch square, which did much damage to our sails 
 and ropes. At eleven o'clock the privateer steered off, to our 
 great joy,' as almost all our cartridges were gone, most of our 
 24-pounders dismounted, and our crew much fatigued. We had 
 lost, however, but one man, who was hit by a grape-shot through 
 the head, and died instantly. 
 
 " It was the opinion of our captain, that the enemy had gone 
 only to repair some of her damages, and meant to attack us 
 again. After some grog, therefore, all hands went to work mak- 
 ing cartridges, wads, &c, and getting the guns in their places ; 
 and rather before all was ready, we saw the Frenchman bearing 
 • down on us a second time, though not so fast but that we were 
 enabled to be quite prepared before he came near. 
 
 " They began to fire at a great distance ; but our captain 
 ordered his men not to fire till they were close to us, and then 
 as fast as possible with the 24-pounders. At a quarter past one 
 we commenced the second action, with more vigour on our part 
 than the first. The men were so eager to despatch the business, 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 FRENCH SHIP VANQUISHED. 
 
 5 
 
 that they charged the guns with a 24-pound ball and two double- 
 headed shot. The French, as before, aimed at our rigging, and 
 we at their hull, which our 24-pounders damaged very much; 
 four of them were seen to go through her on one side below 
 the wale, and another stove in the whole of her gangway. At 
 a few minutes before two o'clock she sheered off, and did not 
 return, leaving us with our rigging terribly damaged : our main- 
 mast shot through in four places, the mizen top-sail yard in 
 one, and the cross jack-yard cut in two in the middle ; one ball 
 through the fore-top mast, and nearly half the shrouds and stays 
 of the ship cut away. Most of the braces were gone ; and the 
 mizen stay-sail, the smallest we had up, had thirty holes in it, 
 the main-sail sixty-two, and the others in the same proportion: 
 yet in the last action not a man was either killed or wounded. 
 
 " At three o'clock the French ship was so far off that we had 
 no expectation of her return ; when the captain told me I might 
 get my family up from where they had been confined for more 
 than five hours, with very little air, and the light of only one 
 lanthorn. At four the privateer was nearly out of sight, and we 
 sat down to dine on a large boiled ham, which the cook had got 
 done for us, notwithstanding all the bustle. The men had at 
 the same time their usual fare, to which the captain added two 
 cheeses and an extra allowance of grog. Thus ended the busy 
 part of the day; and, although we had beaten off our enemy, 
 the evening prospect was but a gloomy one. Our deck was as 
 black as the sides of the ship with the quantity of powder that 
 had been burnt on it, and was covered with ropes, blocks, pieces 
 of masts, yards, &c, balls, shot, and spike-nails.* We had only 
 four rags of sails up, and were not able to manage them for want 
 of braces. Night coming on, put it out of our power to do any- 
 thing but let the ship drift before the wind, which was east. 
 
 "The evening was closed by bringing up on deck the man 
 that had been killed, sewn up in canvas, with a cannon-ball at his 
 feet. He was laid on the deck ; the company stood round while 
 one of the passengers read prayers over him, and he was then 
 lowered gently into the sea. The name of this young man was 
 
 * I remember hearing my father say, that he found the iron of an old patten 
 sticking in the side of the ship. 
 
6 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. I. 
 
 Samuel Reed ; he was a good sailor, and had been with Trux 
 ton when he took a French frigate, and afterwards in the ship 
 Planta when she beat off a French privateer in the Channel 
 in the early part of the summer." 
 
 Mr. Greatrakes says : " During the action a circumstance oc- 
 curred that showed the character of our captain. A wad from 
 one of the Frenchman's 32-pound carronades struck the^ star- 
 board quarter-rail and flew back, spinning round with great veloc- 
 ity. He instantly attempted to jump on it and stop it, almost 
 pushing me down to get it. Then tearing and cutting it to 
 pieces, he charged the larboard 6-pounder several times, and, 
 stuffing the fragments of the wad into it, fired it back again 
 at the Frenchman, swearing bitterly at the whole nation all the 
 time.* 
 
 " Two boys, from thirteen to fifteen years of age, got a stroke 
 or two from the first officer for dancing hornpipes on the main- 
 deck during the heaviest part of both ships' fire. Another boy, 
 in carrying forward a 24-pound cartridge, had it shot away from 
 his hands. ' There,' said he, with an oath directed to the French- 
 man, ' you , now I must go back for another.' In the early 
 
 part of the action our colours were shot down, when our third 
 mate, Mr. Thomas (an Irishman) and our little steward emu- 
 lously contended for the honour of first mounting the poop, to 
 nail them to the mizen-mast, in the midst of a most heavy fire 
 of musketry. Thomas succeeded in getting the fallen colours 
 and nailing them up, though they were shot through several 
 times while he was doing it, and two geese were killed in the 
 coop on which he stood. A young American gentleman, named 
 Wallraven, distinguished himself by his gallantry, and was pub- 
 licly thanked by the captain after the action." 
 
 Of such of the occurrences of this eventful day as were most 
 calculated to make an impression on the mind of a child of five 
 
 * Young as I was, I can recall to mind the figure of Captain Williamson. 
 He was a well-formed, strong-made man, of a good height, but not tall. On 
 this occasion he wore a kind of naval uniform, a hanger at his side, and a belt 
 round his waist, in which were stuck a pair of pistols. From what will be 
 related, he seemed (like Dr. Johnson), to consider one Englishman a match for 
 four Frenchmen ; and with Englishmen he no doubt classed Americans, as well 
 as Scotchmen. 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. 
 
 7 
 
 years of age, I have a tolerable recollection. I had often before 
 looked with awe down the hatches into the gloomy region in 
 which we were confined during the battle, and had seen indis- 
 tinctly the upright post with notches in it for the feet, by which 
 we children were carried down. My wonder and admiration 
 were now excited by the steward, who seemed to me almost to 
 fly up and down this post by the help of the hand-rope, his fre- 
 quent visits having no other object than to see that we were as 
 comfortable as circumstances permitted, to tell us all the best 
 news from the decks, and to bring us reinforcements of ginger- 
 bread, oranges, and wine. 
 
 All my notions of war were associated with the then popular 
 piece of music, the " Battle of Prague," which I had heard my 
 eldest sister play on the piano ; and, accordingly, when I heard 
 the groans of the poor man whose leg was crushed, and who was 
 brought somewhere near us, I exclaimed, " There are the cries 
 of the wounded." The burial of the man who was killed made 
 a deep impression on me, for I saw his messmates carry him to 
 the bow of the ship, and I could distinctly trace the human form 
 through the white canvas in which it was tightly sewn up ; and 
 this — to me, the first — image of death, has never been effaced 
 fr,om my recollection. 
 
 Often as children are frightened without cause, they are as 
 often in moments of real danger less alarmed than their elders ; 
 and I, though constitutionally timid, have no recollection of being 
 terrified by what was going on, perhaps because I believed the 
 hold to be a place of perfect safety. I remember that my brother 
 and I amused ourselves for a great part of the time with playing 
 at hide and seek among the water-casks, with some of the other 
 children of the passengers. My brother, indeed, who was more 
 heroic than I, wanted a little pistol, that he might go on deck 
 and shoot the "naughty Frenchmen." My two elder sisters 
 were of an age to understand and feel alarmed for our situa- 
 tion, and my youngest sister was dangerously ill with an attack 
 of pleurisy, and in that state taken out of bed and carried below. 
 What must my poor mother have suffered ! 
 
 The captain had a very fine Newfoundland dog, named Nero, 
 who was always greatly excited by the firing of guns. During 
 
8 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. I. 
 
 the engagement, he was so much in the way of the sailors, run- 
 ning from one end of the ship to the other, jumping on the guns 
 and barking, that either by chance or design he was thrown down 
 a hatchway, and his leg broken by the Ml. The poor animal 
 became so restless, and his howls were so distressing, that my 
 father, having fastened a rope to his collar, carried him to a part 
 of the hold as far as possible from that which we occupied, and 
 while endeavouring to find some means of securing him, he found 
 one of the passengers sitting alone and quite in the dark. My 
 father asked him to hold the dog, but receiving no answer, he 
 placed the rope in his hand, but it was cold and trembling, and 
 incapable of retaining it. 
 
 The broken leg was probably not the worst hurt poor Nero 
 received by his fall, for he died a few days afterwards, greatly 
 regretted by his master, who gratified him, in his last moments, 
 by firing a pistol over him ; a favour Nero acknowledged by 
 slightly moving his tail, and making a faint attempt to bark. 
 
 Some of these particulars have probably remained with me 
 from hearing my father and others of the family mention them 
 after our arrival in America, rather than from my own recol- 
 lection. 
 
 Mr. Greatrakes relates that — " As our damages were too 
 great to be repaired at sea, and the wind was unfavourable either 
 for England or Ireland, the captain determined to go to Lisbon 
 to refit, from whence we were about 500 miles distant. 
 
 "On the 26th, another privateer, a brig, appeared in sight 
 with all sails set to overtake us; probably supposing, from our 
 shattered condition, she would find us an easy prey. She came 
 up with us towards evening, and our captain determined to sink 
 her, which his weight of metal enabled him to do. Luckily for 
 her, however, a shot fired prematurely reached her, and she took 
 French leave as quickly as possible. 
 
 " On the 30th we took a Lisbon pilot, who came on board with 
 a cocked hat and a high plume of red feathers, laced ruffles to 
 his shirt, and a sword by his side.* 
 
 * The house in which we passed our " Winter in Lisbon," had been built 
 purposely for the accommodation of lodgers. It was four stories high. On 
 each story were two complete and distinct suites of rooms; each suite com- 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 EESIDENCE AT LISBON. 
 
 9 
 
 "The repairs of the ship detained us at Lisbon five months 
 and two days, though the carpenter had engaged to send us to 
 
 prising a very large parlour or drawing-room, four chambers, and a kitchen. 
 Our family occupied a set of apartments on the second story or first-floor. 
 The adjoining set was rented by a Portuguese fidalgo who held a small place 
 under the government, and with his wife, sister, and chikhen, led a life of pre- 
 tension and poverty, show and dirt. All the rooms, except the kitchens, were 
 built entirely without fire-places, or any means of heating them except by the 
 occasional introduction of a brazier of charcoal, in which case it was of course 
 imperative to sit with a door or window open. And even then, the fumes pro- 
 duced such headaches that we thought it better to endure the cold. In the 
 south of Europe, the lamentable scarcity of fuel is a serious drawback to any 
 pleasure that may be derived from passing a winter in those countries. The 
 houses are built as if for perpetual summer. Though during the whole winter 
 there was no snow that lay on the ground, and no ice thicker than a shilling, 
 we had several weeks of almost incessant rain, accompanied by cold, driving 
 winds; and afterwards occasional rain-storms of three or four days. And such 
 rains! a whole cloud seemed to descend at once. The streets (fortunately for 
 them) were so flooded that at times they looked as if cataracts were rushing 
 down between the two rows of houses. But it washed them clean. Our door- 
 windows fitted so badly, that the rain poured in at them through all sorts of 
 crevices and open places ; so that, at each of the thi-ee, large tubs had to be 
 placed to catch the water that would otherwise have deluged .the floor. After 
 the first rain, however, my father contrived means to stop up these cracks, so 
 as to render the in-pouring less violent. But the dampness that pervaded the 
 house, and all other bouses in this tireless country, was without remedy. The 
 shoes that we took off at night were frequently in the morning found covered with 
 blue mould. So also were the surbases, and the frames of the chairs and tables. 
 Our clothes became mouldy in the bureaus and presses ; the covers and edges 
 of our books were frequently coated with mould in a single night. To guard 
 against the effects of this humid atmosphere, which there was no fire to coun- 
 teract, we had recourse to many strange expedients. Every morning, on rising, 
 we dressed ourselves as if we were going to spend the day in the street; put- 
 ting on as many under garments as we could, and finishing with our pelisses or 
 outside coats, and fur tippets. We wore our bonnets all day long; and my 
 sisters and myself rejoiced in cottage beavers, tied in closely to our faces. My 
 father (always in his great coat) likewise kept on his hat, and the two boys 
 were made to keep on theirs. Several days were really so cold, as well as 
 damp, that after breakfast we all went regularly to bed; remaining there the 
 whole day, except at meal-times. This we found a tolerably good plan, and 1 
 liked it very well, as I could then give myself up entirely to reading. One of 
 the amusements of the juvenile part of the family, when our parents were not 
 present (with shame I speak of it), was to peep through the keyhole, with a 
 desire to be enlightened as to the manners and customs of the Portuguese peo- 
 ple who occupied the adjoining suite of apartments; a door, always locked, 
 being between their drawing-room and ours. We would not have acted so dis- 
 honourably towards persons of our own country, or even to British neighbours ; 
 but we regarded the Portuguese as "no rule." We soon ascertained that 
 
10 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. I> 
 
 sea in six weeks, or two months at the farthest. The expense 
 was £12,000 sterling, with a deduction of £2000 for old mate- 
 rials. 
 
 their general habiliments were old and slovenly, but that whenever a fine day 
 tempted the lady-wife to walk out, she covered her dirty dark calico dress with 
 an elegant blue satin cloak trimmed with ermine ; and had a barber to come 
 and dress her hair, and decorate it with embroidered ribbons ; bonnets not yet 
 being introduced into Portugal. Keeping no regular servant, she, for these 
 occasions, hired, by the hour, two maids to walk after her. When any of her 
 female friends came to visit our neighbour, they also brought their maids -with 
 them; and while the mistresses were conversing on the sofa, the maids sat flat 
 on the floor in front of them, and kept up a whispering talk with each other. 
 Among other items of keyhole knowledge, we discovered that every day, about 
 dinner-time, our neighbours had a table set out in their parlour with clean 
 damask cloth and napkins, pieces of bread, silver forks, spoons, castors, &c; 
 handsome wine-glasses, and goblets, and all the paraphernalia of a very genteel 
 dinner equipage. The table stood thus during an hour or more; so that if vis- 
 itors came in, they might suppose that the family were preparing to sit down 
 in style comme il faut. But to this table they never did sit down; for when the 
 time of exhibition had elapsed, all the fine things were taken off and carefully 
 put away for a similar show the next day, and the next. Meanwhile (as we 
 found by reconnoitring through the kitchen keyhole) the Portuguese family all 
 assembled in the place where their food was cooked; seated themselves on the 
 floor round a large earthen pan filled with some sort of stew; and each dipped 
 in a pewter spoon and fed out of that same pan. Our house was supplied with 
 milk in the usual Portuguese fashion ; the fashion at least of that time. A 
 dirty old man with a red woollen cap on his head, and round his ragged jacket 
 a red woollen sash, to which hung several tin cups of various measures, drove 
 before him a cow, two she-asses, and three or four goats, stopping to milk 
 them at the doors of his customers, who thus had their choice of cow's milk, 
 ass's milk, or goat's milk. The two last milks are considered good for invalids; 
 English people of that unfortunate class being then in the habit of resorting to 
 Lisbon for the improvement of their health. They have grown wiser since the 
 whole European continent has been opened to them. Our milkman, like all 
 other Portuguese, took snuff a loutrance ; always stopping to regale himself 
 with a pinch more than once during the process of milking into the tin mug, 
 and then resuming with his snuffy fingers. A remonstrance from the person 
 who stood at the door to take the milk so offended his Portuguese dignity, that 
 he immediately drove off his beasts in high dudgeon, and there was no milk 
 that day. Next morning, when he was caught with some difficulty as he 
 passed grandly by, it required considerable coaxing and apologising, and many 
 promises of future good behaviour, to prevail on him to stop, and supply milk 
 as usual. The fashion of knee-breeches, cocked hats, and hair tied and pow- 
 dered, was retained by the Portuguese long after that style became obsolete in 
 all other parts of the world. With their long and ample cloaks, there was no 
 need of wasting money on good clothes to wear underneath; and linen was 
 rarely discerned about their necks, for very good reasons. A large house was 
 building next door to ours. Immediately in front, the street was chiefly occu- 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 EESIDENCE AT LISBON. 
 
 11 
 
 " While we were at Lisbon we heard from the American con- 
 sul at Corunna, of the privateer we had been engaged with. 
 
 pied by a wide deep slough or mud-hole, where the paving-stones had sunk or 
 died away; and the councilmen, or aldermen, or selectmen (if there are any 
 such persons in Lisbon) had taken no account of it. When the weather was 
 uncommonly bad, the carts that brought stone for the building generally stuck 
 fast in this capacious hole. The Lisbon carts were of very primitive structure. 
 They had no close sides; neither had they iron stanchions like those of drays 
 to keep things from falling; there were only a few crooked sticks, stuck in 
 here and there along the edges. Though wood is so scarce in Portugal, there 
 was a great waste of it in the wheels, which had no spokes, but were solid and 
 massy, like grindstones; and the axle-tree revolved with them, groaning, or 
 rather, shrieking dismally all the time. These carts were drawn by a pair of 
 oxen, which it always required two men to urge along. The dress of these 
 carmen began by cocked hats, and powdered hair tastefully queued withblue 
 or pink ribbons; cotton velvet jackets with tarnished, tinsel-looking orna- 
 ments; faded breeches open at the knees; and their bare Portuguese legs 
 ended, as usual, in old shoes with large showy buckles. Each driver carried 
 a goad, and when the cart-load of stone got into the slough, while one man 
 goaded the oxen, shouting violently something that sounded like the 
 other went to their heads, and endeavoured to frighten the poor beasts out of 
 the mud-hole by making ferocious faces at them, and shrilling also in a loud 
 voice, and brandishing his stick threateningly. The workmen came out of the 
 house to assist in this enterprise of extricating the cart ; and they always had 
 to do at the end what they should have done at the beginning, — unload it of 
 the slabs of stone ; after which, the oxen and the empty cart were generally 
 shahed out of the hole in less than half-an-hour. Among the sights of Lisbon 
 streets, those that have a taste for such things may be treated daily with the 
 gratuitous view of a pig-killing. If a man is driving a pig, and the animal 
 seems to have more than his usual disinclination to " go a-head," the driver, to 
 cut short all further argument, stops in the open street, takes out his knife, and 
 deliberately kills the pig. Then, getting some dry furze from the nearest shop, 
 he makes a fire in the street, singes and scrapes the animal, removes the 
 inside, and carries the carcase home on his shoulder, all ready for selling or 
 cooking. The Portuguese pork is the finest in the world: being fattened on 
 chestnuts and sweet acorns. This food gives a peculiar sweetness and delicacy 
 to the meat, the fat of which is as mild as cream. The beef is far from good ; 
 and there is a law against killing calves; it being thought better they should 
 live and grow up into larger and more profitable animals. Nevertheless, mys- 
 terious men came sometimes to our house, and with many and solemn injunc- 
 tions to secrecy, produced from under their cloaks a piece of veal, for which 
 they asked an enormous price as an indemnification to their consciences for 
 having violated the law. Kids are much eaten in Portugal; but it is not alto- 
 gether safe to venture on one, unless you are quite sure that it is not a cat. I 
 am still uneasy with a misgiving, that, at a table not our own, I did eat a slice of 
 grimalkin kid ; and I can never be quite certain that I did not. I must say, 
 however, that whether of the feline species or not, it looked and tasted well. 
 Among the country people that came into market, were the wine-sellers, 
 
12 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. I. 
 
 She was called La Bellone, of Bordeaux, a beautiful new ship, 
 mounting twenty-six brass twelves and four thirty-two pound 
 carronades. She was a very SAvift sailer, and had, when she left 
 port, 275 men; but. when she engaged us her complement was 
 240, having put the others on board a British prize. We killed 
 thirty-seven and wounded fifty-eight, and when she got to Co- 
 runna, she had four and a half feet water in the hold." These 
 particulars are confirmed by my father's journal, with the excep- 
 tion of the number of men killed, which he states at thirty.* 
 
 " On the 31st of March," says Mr. Greatrakes, " we left Lis- 
 bon, and the same day we carried away our new fore top-mast 
 in a gale, and the next morning though the wind had subsided 
 suddenly, it. left such a deep trenching sea that the ship rolled 
 in the most dreadful manner, and about 11 o'clock our new main 
 top-mast was rolled over-board, with a man and a boy on it. 
 The man was killed, but the boy saved himself by catching in 
 the shrouds, though he was severely wounded. 
 
 " On the 3rd April, while all hands were busily employed in 
 clearing the wreck of the two masts, at five, p.m., we saw a sail 
 to windward, appearing like a ship of war. We could not make 
 sail from her, if we would, and our captain now pronounced her 
 a frigate, and declared his intention of fighting her, should she 
 prove to be an enemy. We cleared for action, and at six we 
 could see her hull, but no colours; at half-past six we were 
 ready, and could now discern her hoisting colours, but it was 
 too dark to see what they were. At seven she shot across 
 our bows, within pistol-shot, matches lighted, and every gun 
 with lanthorns, as were ours. At this moment a perfect silence 
 reigned in both ships ; not a whisper w r as to be heard in our 
 own. We were incapable of preventing her from lying on 
 us in any situation she might choose, and her taking this very 
 formidable one of crossing our bows alarmed us much, as she 
 might in passing, being higher than ourselves, have raked us 
 
 each carrying on his back a borachio or goat-skin, distended with new wine, 
 the forelegs being brought round the neck of the man and tied together in 
 front. Such were the wine-skins that Don Quixote attacked with his sword, 
 mistaking them for an army of soldiers. — 11 Recollections of Lisbon" by Miss 
 Leslie. 
 
 * The remainder of my father's journal has unfortunately been lost. 
 
CHAP. I.] 
 
 ARRIVAL AT PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 13 
 
 dreadfully. We now concluded she was an enemy, and respi- 
 ration seemed almost to cease among us for a few seconds, ex- 
 pecting her fire. She, however, swiftly crossed our bows from 
 starboard to larboard, and wearing round, as if animated by an 
 instinctive spirit, laid herself alongside of us at about twenty 
 yards' distance. In this manoeuvre was fully exhibited the great 
 skill and discipline of British seamen, and all was done in profound 
 silence. She hailed us in English, a language at this moment 
 peculiarly musical to our ears, and she proved to be the Sea 
 Horse, a 38-gun frigate, most gallantly manned and homeward- 
 bound from a cruise.* 
 
 " On the 11th May we arrived at Philadelphia, forty-two days 
 from Lisbon, and seven months and twenty-six days from Lon- 
 don." 
 
 My father now found himself obliged to engage in a lawsuit 
 with the executors of his deceased partner, who had greatly mis- 
 managed the business. The lawsuit turned out tedious and ex- 
 pensive, and before it was decided my father, whose health had 
 been long declining, died, after a confinement to his room of one 
 week. 
 
 This was in 1804. I was too young to feel how much we all 
 lost in him. He was a most kind parent, and I cannot now recol- 
 lect that I ever had an angry word from him, though I can re- 
 member many indulgences and gratifications which he afforded to 
 my sisters, my brother, and myself, at an expense of time and 
 trouble, of which we were then little aware. The retrospect con- 
 vinces me that his chief happiness consisted in making his chil- 
 dren happy, as well as his wife, between whom and himself I can 
 remember nothing but entire harmony and affection. The only 
 recollections of my father that are painful, are of his ill-health. 
 I cannot recall to mind a single day in which he seemed quite 
 well ; and his disorders must have been greatly aggravated by his 
 pecuniary embarrassments during the last years of his life. 
 
 Among his most intimate friends, I remember the leading phy- 
 
 * It may seem incredible that the captain of our ship should have thought of 
 fighting a frigate, disabled as he was; but he assuredly did so, for I distinctly 
 remember, when we came up from the hold, seeing our sailors all ranged at 
 their guns with lighted matches, and I can, therefore, vouch for the veracity of 
 Mr. Greatrakes. 
 
14 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. i. 
 
 sicians of Philadelphia — Doctors Rush, Barton, Whistar, Phy- 
 sick, and Mease. He had also known Franklin, and among his 
 daily associates were Charles Wilson Peale, and Oliver Evans, 
 two men of great ingenuity — the first in many ways, the last as 
 an engineer. That a man, without any advantages of education, 
 should have lived constantly in such society; proves that he pos- 
 sessed no ordinary mind. His reading was, probably, not exten- 
 sive ; but I remember that, after Shakespeare, his favourite au- 
 thors were Addison, Pope, Fielding, Sterne, and Goldsmith. He 
 made a small collection of engravings in England, and " Hogarth's 
 Apprentices " were among the number. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Desire to be a painter — George Frederick Cooke — Departure for England — 
 New acquaintances — Visits to the theatre — Allston and Coleridge — Visit 
 to Clifton — Obtain the Academy medals — Fuseli and Westmacott — Visit 
 to Paris — Coleridge's lectures on Shakespeare — Fragments of Coleridge 
 — Coleridge at Highgate — Charles and Mary Lamb. 
 
 At my father's death there was so little property left that my 
 mother was obliged to open a boarding-house, and my eldest sister 
 to teach drawing to support the family. My brother and I had 
 been sent to school at the University of Pennsylvania, which then 
 occupied a splendid house in Ninth-street, built by the citizens of 
 Philadelphia to present to General Washington, but which the 
 removal of the seat of government from that city prevented his 
 occupying. 
 
 It would not have been in the power of my mother to continue 
 sending us to this school, but for the kindness of Dr. Rogers, the 
 English professor, a Baptist minister, who, abated considerably in 
 his charge for our tuition, and Mr. Robert Petterson, the profes- 
 sor of mathematics, who, having known my father intimately, 
 made no charge whatever. I am sorry to say, however, I did 
 not appreciate this liberality as I ought to have done, but neg- 
 lected the study of mathematics as much as I possibly could. 
 
 My summers and autumns were at this period regularly spent 
 in visits to my great uncles, Philip Ward and George Hall, with 
 my eldest sister, Eliza, and my kind aunt, Margaret Leslie (my 
 father's sister). These uncles lived in Chester county, and were 
 farmers. The scenery about Mr. Ward's house was very beauti- 
 ful, the Brandy wine creek ran near it, and one of' its tributary 
 streams turned a flour-mill and a saw-mill belonging to my uncle. 
 I shall never forget the kindness I received from my worthy rela- 
 tives, while under their roofs. Their habits were simple and 
 
16 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. II. 
 
 rustic. My uncle Hall performed all the work of his little farm 
 himself ; but then, he belonged to a volunteer corps of cavalry ; 
 indeed, he had served in the revolutionary war, and his horse- 
 man's boots, cap, sword, and his blue coat with red facings, which 
 I saw hanging up in his bed-room, though they never happened 
 to be worn during our visits, gave him great importance in my 
 eyes. At Mr. Ward's, one of his sons was the working miller, 
 and the other the farmer, and here I became familiar with all the 
 operations of both mill and farm. I accompanied my cousin 
 Tommy Ward in the fields when he was ploughing or sowing, 
 and in the barn when he was thrashing or winnowing the corn, 
 and I well remember a grand husking party (or " frolic," as it 
 was called), when the neighbours for miles round came to assist 
 in stripping the Indian corn of its outer covering, and afterwards 
 sat down to a most substantial supper. To the imagery treasured 
 in my recollection of these simple scenes, I believe I owe much 
 of the exquisite enjoyment I receive from reading the poetry of 
 Burns. His " Hallowe'en," his " Twa Dogs," and other poems, 
 in which the labours and enjoyments of the cottage are described, 
 always transport me to the log-houses of my kind-hearted uncles 
 and aunts in Chester county. 
 
 From my infancy* I had been fond of drawing, and when old 
 enough to think of a profession, I wished to be a painter. But 
 my mother had no means of giving me a painter's education, 
 though 1 believe she thought at one time of placing me with an 
 engraver. This notion was however abandoned, and in the year 
 1808 I was bound apprentice to Messrs. Bradford and Inskeep, 
 Booksellers. Samuel T. Bradford, the senior partner, was at that 
 time the most enterprising publisher in Philadelphia. While I 
 was under his care he treated me with the kindness of a father, 
 but was strict in exacting from me attention to business. If lie 
 found me drawing when I should have been otherwise engaged, 
 he shook his head and seemed so much displeased, that the most 
 distant hope of his ever assisting me to become a painter never 
 entered my mind. The circumstance which changed his opinion 
 and fixed my destiny grew out of the arrival in America of the 
 celebrated actor, George Frederick Cooke. The excitement pro- 
 duced among play-going people on his first appearance in Phila- 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 GEORGE FREDERICK COOKE. 
 
 17 
 
 delphia was most extraordinary. — He was to play Richard on a 
 Monday night, and on the Sunday evening the steps of the theatre 
 were covered with groups of porters, and other men of the lower 
 orders, prepared to spend the night there, that they might have 
 the first chance of taking places in the boxes. I saw some of 
 them take their hats off and put on nightcaps. At ten o'clock the 
 next morning the door was opened to them, and at that time the 
 street in front of the theatre was impassable. When the rush 
 took place, I saw a man spring up and catch hold of the iron 
 which supported a lamp on one side of the door, by which he 
 raised himself so as to run over the heads of the crowd into the 
 theatre. Some of these fellows were hired by gentlemen to secure 
 places, and others took boxes on speculation, sure of selling them 
 at double or treble the regular prices. When the time came for 
 opening the doors in the evening, the crowd was so tumultuous 
 that it was evident there was little certainty that the holders of 
 box-tickets would obtain their places, and for ladies the attempt 
 would be dangerous. A placard was therefore displayed, stating, 
 that all persons who had tickets would be admitted at the stage 
 door before the front doors were opened. This notice soon drew 
 such a crowd to the back of the theatre, that when Cooke arrived 
 he could not get in. He was on foot, with Dunlap, one of the 
 New York managers, and he was obliged to make himself known 
 before he could be got through the press. " I am like the man 
 going to be hanged," he said, " who told the crowd they would 
 have no fun unless they made way for him." 
 
 I should have had little chance of seeing him that night but 
 for a friend in the theatre, Tom Reinagle, a lad of my own 
 age, and one of the assistant scene painters. He obtained me 
 a place in the flies, as a kind of gallery just over the stage is 
 called, and from that eminence I first saw George Frederick 
 Cooke, the best Richard since Garrick, and who has not been 
 surpassed even by Edmund Kean. Cooke had seen Garrick, 
 and no doubt this was much to his advantage. 
 
 The other characters in which I saw him were Lear, Shy- 
 lock, Falstaff, Iago, Sir Giles Overreach, Sir Pertinax Mac 
 Sycophant, and Sir Archy Mac Sarcasm ; and I have a perfect 
 recollection of him in all. I thought Edmund Kean inferior 
 2 
 
18 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. II. 
 
 to him in Lear, but in Sir Giles Overreach superior, particu- 
 larly in the last scene. I was told by Bannister that Cooke's 
 Fahtaff was much below Henderson's, but it certainly was 
 above any other Fahtaff I ever saw ; and his Mac Sycophant 
 and Mac Sarcasm were perfection. I think of him always with 
 particular interest, not only as one of the very few really great 
 tragic actors I have seen, but as the cause of my coming to 
 England. 
 
 I dined once in company with him at the fish-house on the 
 banks of the Schuylkill, with a club of gentlemen who, in the 
 summer months, resorted there to fish. Cooke's manners, when 
 sober, were perfect, and I came away before he got drunk. % 
 
 I had served three years of my time at the bookselling busi- 
 ness when a likeness which I made of Cooke attracted the atten- 
 tion of some of my friends, and Mr. Bradford became of opinion 
 that I might succeed as an artist. From that moment he en- 
 couraged my attempts at drawing, as much as he had before 
 discouraged them. Mr. Clibborn, an Irish gentleman, and a 
 friend of Mr. Bradford, who had often honoured me with his 
 notice while I was behind the counter, carried the sketch of 
 Cooke to the Exchange Coffee House at the hour when it was 
 most frequented by the merchants ; the attempt was thought 
 surprising for a. boy, and in a few hours my feme was spread 
 among the wealthiest men in the city. Mr. Bradford therefore 
 found no difficulty in raising a fund by subscription, to which 
 he contributed liberally himself, sufficient to enable me to study 
 painting two years in Europe. 
 
 As to the little likeness of Cooke, there was nothing very 
 wonderful in it, I had studied over and over again the pic- 
 tures in Peale's Museum, having had access to it at all times, 
 in consequence of the intimacy between my father and the very 
 ingenious proprietor. I was not acquainted with Mr. Sully, the 
 best painter in Philadelphia, but I never passed his door with- 
 out running up into his show-room (which was at all times 
 accessible), and spending as much time there as I had to spare. 
 The windows of the print-shops were also so many academies 
 to me, and often detained me so long when I was sent on 
 errands, that I was obliged, on leaving them, to run as fast as 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 DEPARTURE FOR ENGLAND. 
 
 10 
 
 possible to make up for lost time. When all this is consid- 
 ered, and also that I took an uncommon interest (even for a 
 boy) in everything relating to the stage, and that I shared fully 
 in the excitement produced by the arrival of such an actor as 
 Cooke in America, it would, I think, have been more surpris- 
 ing had I failed in the attempt to make a likeness of him from 
 recollection, than that I should, to a certain degree, have suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 Luckily, however, for me, my drawing was thought wonder- 
 ful ; and my liberal friend, Mr. Bradford, determined to send me 
 to England, under the care of his partner and brother-in-law, 
 Mr. Inskeep, who was about to sail for London on business. 
 
 Before I left Philadelphia, Mr. Sully, with whom I had be- 
 come acquainted, gave me the first lesson I received in oil- 
 painting. He began a copy of a picture in my presence, and 
 then put his palette and brushes into my hand, telling me to 
 proceed in the same way with a copy of my own. The next 
 day he carried his work further, and I again followed him, and 
 so on, until the copies were both finished ; thus explaining to 
 me at once the processes of scumbling, glazing, &c. 
 
 Sully gave me letters to Mr. West, Sir William Beechey, Mr. 
 Charles King, and other artists; and thus provided, I sailed 
 from New York on the 11th of November, 1811, and, after a 
 short and pleasant passage, arrived at Liverpool on the 3rd of 
 December. Notwithstanding the gloomy season of the year, I 
 entered London with such feelings as we can experience, per- 
 haps, but once in our lives. It was my birth-place, and my 
 earliest recollections belonged to it. I had a kind of dreamy 
 remembrance of the magnificence of St. Paul's, and the splen- 
 dour of the Lord Mayor's show. The novels of Miss Burney, 
 and the "Picture of London," had made me acquainted with 
 its chief objects of interest, and I had often amused myself with 
 tracing its localities on the maps. Familiar with the engraved 
 works of Hogarth, the very purlieus of St. Giles's, from whence 
 his backgrounds are so frequently taken, possessed to my im- 
 agination the charm of classic ground. 
 
 For the last three years I had enjoyed opportunities of see- 
 ing all the most interesting books as they arrived from England 
 
20 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. II. 
 
 in the bloom of novelty. The talk of the literary men who 
 frequented Mr. Bradford's shop, was often of London and its 
 wonders. I knew the names and styles of the principal English 
 artists from the many engravings I had opportunities of seeing. 
 Passionately fond of the theatre, I knew that Kemble, Mrs. Sid- 
 dons, Mrs. Jordan, Bannister, Dowton, and Munden were still 
 on the stage; and I had heard of Liston, Matthews, and Emery, 
 who were then in the meridian of their glory. I had seen one 
 of the finest of West's pictures (his "Lear in the Storm"), and 
 I was to see and know the great artist himself. All this to 
 a boy of sixteen, and of such tastes as I have described, could 
 not but afford anticipations of the most intoxicating delight. Nor 
 did the reality fall short of the anticipation. 
 
 For a few days I was at the London Coffee House, on Lud- 
 gate Hill, with Mr. Inskeep and other Americans. I delivered 
 my letters to Mr. West, and was kindly received by him. I 
 visited the galleries of artists, the theatres, and the other prin- 
 cipal objects of attraction to strangers, and 
 
 " Such sober certainty of waking bliss 
 I never knew 'till now." 
 
 But these enjoyments were soon interrupted by a severe ill- 
 ness, which confined me to my room in the hotel. I was soli- 
 tary, and began to find that even in London it was possible to 
 be unhappy. I did not, however, feel this in its full force until 
 I was settled in lodgings, consisting of two desolate-looking rooms 
 up two pair of stairs, in Warren Street, Fitzroy Square. My 
 new acquaintances, Allston, King, and Morse were very kind, 
 but still they were new acquaintances. I thought of the happy 
 circle round my mother's fireside, and there were moments in 
 which, but for my obligations to Mr. Bradford and my other 
 kind patrons, I could have been content to forfeit all the advan- 
 tages I expected from my visit to England, and return imme- 
 diately to America. The two years I was to remain in London 
 seemed, in prospect, an age. 
 
 Mr. Morse, who was but a year or two older than myself, and 
 who had been in London but six months when I arrived, felt 
 very much as I did, and we agreed to take apartments together. 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 VISITS TO THE THEATEE. 
 
 21 
 
 For some time we painted in the same room, he at one window 
 and I at the other. We drew at the Royal Academy in the 
 evening, and worked at home in the day. Our Mentors were 
 AlLston and King ; nor could we have been better provided : 
 Allston, a most amiable and polished gentleman, and a painter 
 of the purest taste ; and King, warm-hearted, sincere, sensible, 
 prudent, and the strictest of economists. These gentlemen were 
 our seniors; our most intimate associates of our own age were 
 some young Bostonians, students of medicine, who were walking 
 the hospitals, and attending the lectures of Cline, Cooper, and 
 Abernethy. With them we often encountered the tremendous 
 crowds that besieged the doors of Covent Garden Theatre when 
 John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons played. It was the last season 
 in which the public were to be gratified with the performance 
 of the greatest actress that ever trod the stage, and we practised 
 the closest economy that we might afford the expense of seeing 
 her often. In the acting of Mrs. Siddons and John Kemble, I 
 remember particularly (perhaps because it was somewhat unex- 
 pected) the grace with which they could descend from the state- 
 liness of tragedy to the easy manner of familiar life. The scene 
 jn which Mrs. Siddons, as Volumnia, sat sewing with Virg*ilia, 
 and the subsequent scene with Valeria, and in Hamlet, the man- 
 ner in which John Kemble gave the conversations with the 
 players, were beautiful instances of this. These passages are 
 not comic ; but both brother and sister, in giving them, indicated 
 the perfection of genteel comedy. Perhaps it is the highest 
 praise of such acting to say, that it was truly Shakespearian, 
 and made one feel, still more than in reading the plays, the value 
 of such scenes. In the "Winter's Tale," also, the by-play of 
 Leontes with the child Mamillius, while he is jealously watching 
 Hermione and Polixenes, was marked by John Kemble with the 
 same fine tact ; and the manner in which Mrs. Siddons, as Lady 
 Macbeth, dismissed the guests from the banquet scene, has often 
 been noticed among the minor beauties of her acting. After 
 her retirement from the stage she was fond of adverting to her 
 theatrical career, and in a conversation on this subject she said 
 to my friend Newton, " / was an honest actress, and at all times 
 in all things endeavoured to do my best." 
 
22 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. II. 
 
 I thought the Falconhridge of Charles Kemble as perfect as 
 the Coriolanus of his brother John. Nature, as well as art, 
 had admirably adapted the brothers for these two characters. 
 Charles, then young, possessed a heroic face and figure, and 
 the spirit he threw into the reputed son of Cceur de Lion, as 
 he played the character, was too natural not to be his own ; 
 while the impatience of plebeian dictation as certainly belonged 
 to John Kemble as his noble Roman countenance : indeed, I can 
 imagine no other Coriolanus or Brutus. The cast of parts at 
 that period was glorious. In the " Winter's Tale " we had John, 
 and Charles Kemble, and Mrs. Siddons ; with Fawcett in Au- 
 tolycus, Liston in the Clown, Blanchard in the old Shepherd, 
 and Mrs. Harry Johnstone (a beautiful creature), in Perdita. 
 It says much for the company of Drury Lane that they could 
 attempt to compete with that of Covent Garden. The former 
 had Bannister, Munden, and Dowton, and attracted full houses 
 at the Lyceum Theatre, where they played while Drury Lane 
 was rebuilding. 
 
 My first instructors in painting were Mr. West and Mr. All- 
 ston. They permitted me at all times to see the works they 
 were engaged on, and were ever ready to give me advice and 
 assistance in the pictures I attempted, which were then chiefly 
 portraits of the size of life. It was Allston who first awakened 
 what little sensibility I may possess to the beauties of colour. 
 He first directed my attention to the Venetian school, particu- 
 larly to the works of Paul Veronese, and taught me to see, 
 through the accumulated dirt of ages, the exquisite charm that 
 lay beneath. Yet, for a long time, I took the merit of the Vene- 
 tians on trust, and, if left to myself, should have preferred works 
 which I now feel to be comparatively worthless. I remember 
 when the picture of " The Ages," by Titian, was first pointed 
 out to me by Allston as an exquisite work, I thought he was 
 laughing at me. It is but fair to myself, however, to say, that 
 from the first I was delighted with the RafFaelles in the same 
 collection (the Bridgwater). 
 
 Mr. West gave me a note to Fuseli, whose authority was at 
 that time sufficient to admit me to draw in the Royal Acad- 
 emy as a probationer. I also became a student of the Townley 
 
CHAP II.] 
 
 ALLSTON AND COLERIDGE. 
 
 23 
 
 Marbles in the British Museum, and through the introduction of 
 Mr. West I had access to the Elgin Marbles, then deposited in a 
 temporary building in the garden of Burlington House. Morse 
 and I studied there from six till eight o'clock in the summer 
 mornings, and I copied several pictures at Mr. West's house, 
 where I had the constant benefit of the advice of the venerable 
 and truly amiable President. 
 
 I think it was during the second year of my residence in Lon- 
 don that Allston's health became seriously affected; and, as 
 change of air was recommended, he determined to visit Bristol, 
 where he had an uncle living, who hearing of his state had ad- 
 vised him to try the air of Clifton. Mr. and Mrs. Allston left 
 London, accompanied by Morse and myself ; but when we 
 reached Salt Hill, Allston became too ill to proceed, and it was 
 determined that Morse should return to town and acquaint Cole- 
 ridge with the circumstance. He was affectionately attached to 
 Allston, and came to Salt Hill the same afternoon, accompanied 
 by his friend Dr. Tathill. He stayed at the Inn for the few days 
 that Allston was confined there. The house was so full that the 
 poet was obliged to share a double-bedded room with me. We 
 were kept up late in consequence of the critical condition of All- 
 ston, and, when we retired, Coleridge seeing a copy of " Knick- 
 erbocker's History of New York" (which I had brought with 
 me) laying on the table, took it up and began reading. I went 
 to bed, and I think he must have sate up the greater part of the 
 night, for the next day I found he had nearly got through Knick- 
 erbocker. This was many years before it was published in Eng- 
 land, and the work was of course entirely new to him. He was 
 delighted with it. 
 
 I had seen Coleridge before, but it was on this occasion that 
 my acquaintance commenced with this most extraordinary man, 
 of whom it might be said, as truly as of Burke, that " his stream 
 of mind was perpetual." His eloquence threw a new and beau- 
 tiful light on most subjects, and when he was beyond my compre- 
 hension, the melody of his voice, and the impressiveness of his 
 manner held me a willing listener, and I was nattered at being 
 supposed capable of understanding him. Indeed, men far ad- 
 vanced beyond myself in education might have felt as children in 
 his presence. 
 
24 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. h. 
 
 Luckily for me he could not help talking, be he where or with 
 whom he might, and I shall ever regret that I did not take notes, 
 imperfect as they must have been, of what he said. I can only 
 now remember, that besides speaking much of Allston, whom he 
 loved dearly, he gave an admirable analysis of the character of 
 Don Quixote. He said, " there are two kinds of madness ; in 
 the one, the object pursued is a sane one, the madness discover- 
 ing itself only in the means by which it is to be gained. In the 
 other, an insane intention is aimed at or compassed by means 
 that the soundest mind would employ, as in cases of murder, 
 suicide, etc. The madness of Don Quixote is of the first class, 
 his intention being always to do good, and his delusion only as to 
 the mode of accomplishing his object." 
 
 It was said of Coleridge by one who knew him intimately, and 
 was indeed one of his most active friends, that " he was a good 
 man, but whenever anything presented itself to him in the shape 
 of a moral duty he was utterly incapable of performing it." He 
 had, no doubt, great faults and weaknesses, but this was unques- 
 tionably a sweeping exaggeration, uttered perhaps in a moment 
 of irritation. At Salt Hill, and on some other occasions, I wit- 
 nessed his performance of the duties of friendship in a manner 
 which few men of his constitutional indolence could have roused 
 themselves to equal. 
 
 I accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Allston to Clifton, where I spent 
 a fortnight with them, and had the pleasure to leave our patient 
 convalescent under the care of Mr. King, to whom Coleridge 
 had procured him a letter from Southey. To this eminent sur- 
 geon (under Providence) Allston believed he owed his life. 
 During the gradual cure of his painful disorder, he was, how- 
 ever, subject to a great deal of annoyance from his uncle, Mr. 
 Vanderhorst, of a nature to be severely felt in his weak and 
 nervous state ; and never, perhaps, did one kind-hearted man 
 torment another more. 
 
 Among one or two other prejudices, Mr. Vanderhorst cherished 
 an inveterate animosity against doctors. " Don't let one of those 
 rascals enter your door," was the burthen of his first visit to his 
 suffering nephew. " Follow my advice, live well, and trust to 
 the air of Clifton. You see how well I am," — he had only the 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 VISIT TO CLIFTON. 
 
 25 
 
 gout, — " and how healthy all my family are, and this is because 
 we never let a doctor come near us." At the very moment in 
 which this advice was inflicted on the patient, we were expecting 
 the arrival of Mr. King. Mr. Vanderhorst luckily left before 
 the doctor came ; but as the latter visited Allston regularly twice 
 a day, and Mr. Vanderhorst or one of his family called often, our 
 apprehensions of a collision, or at least a discovery of what was 
 going on, were unceasing. In the mean time Allston's gradual 
 recovery was evident, and Mr. Vanderhorst took the whole credit 
 of it to himself. 
 
 While I was at Clifton, Coleridge very unexpectedly arrived 
 and engaged to give a course of lectures on Milton and Shake- 
 speare. I heard three of them, and here again the regret arises 
 that I took no notes. In a letter I wrote at the time, and which 
 has since been returned to me, I find the following passage: — 
 " His object, he says, is not to show, what everybody acknowl- 
 edges, that Shakespeare and Milton were men of great genius, but 
 to efface the impression, that because their genius was great, they 
 must necessarily have great faults, and to prove that their judg- 
 ment was equal to their genius ; — in other words, that neither of 
 them was an inspired idiot? " He has given me," I added, " a 
 much more distinct and satisfactory view of the nature and ends 
 of poetry, and of painting, than I ever had before." 
 
 I was now admitted a student in the Antique Academy of 
 which Fuseli was the keeper. I had been impressed with the 
 greatest respect for his genius, both as a painter and a writer, 
 before I left America. The engraving from his " Hamlet and 
 the Ghost " had scared me from the window of a print shop in 
 Philadelphia, and I still contemplate that matchless spectre with 
 something of the same awe which it then inspired. I hoped for 
 much advantage from studying under such a master, but he said 
 little in the Academy. He generally came into the room once in 
 the course of every evening, and rarely without a book in his 
 hand. He would take any vacant place among the students, and 
 sit reading nearly the whole time he stayed with us. I believe 
 he was right. For those students who are born with powers that 
 will make them eminent, it is sufficient to place fine works of art 
 before them. They do not want instruction, and those that do are 
 
26 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. II. 
 
 not worth it. Art may be learnt, but can't be taught. Under 
 Fuseli's wise neglect, Wilkie, Mulready, Etty, Landseer, and 
 Haydon distinguished themselves, and were the better for not be- 
 ing made all alike by teaching, if indeed that could have been done. 
 
 I obtained two silver medals in the Academy, and, Mr. West 
 being indisposed, I received them on both occasions from the 
 hand of Fuseli. The first was for a drawing from the Laocoon ; 
 Fuseli had ordered that we should draw the principal figure only : 
 but as, from the number of competitors, I could obtain no other 
 seat than one from which part of the father was hidden by one 
 of the boys, I asked him if I might introduce that boy. He ob- 
 jected. I urged that I could not draw the limb that was hidden, 
 except from imagination, and again I begged him to let me put in 
 the boy. He replied, " if you draw one you must draw both, and 
 I won't have an ape and two monkeys," — alluding to the carica- 
 ture of the group, by Titian. 
 
 The other drawing for which I received a medal was from the 
 life, and the figure was set by Flaxman. I value my medals, 
 therefore, the more as being associated with my recollections of 
 these two great artists. 
 
 One evening, in the Life Academy, while Westmacott was 
 visitor, Fuseli came in, and I heard part of an argument between 
 them on the merits of the Elgin Marbles. Fuseli had never 
 fully shared in the enthusiasm with which Mr. West and other 
 artists hailed their arrival in England. It was the fashion with 
 some of them (not with Mr. West, I think,) to praise the Elgin 
 Marbles as superior even to the Apollo. To some remark of 
 Westmacott, in praise of the Theseus, Fuseli replied : 
 
 " The Apollo is a god, the man in the Mews is a demi-god,* 
 and the Theseus is a man." 
 
 " You will admit," said Westmacott, " that he is a hero ? " 
 
 " No," replied Fuseli, " he is only a strong man." 
 
 Edwin Landseer, who entered the Academy very early, and 
 was a pretty little curly-headed boy, attracted Fuseli's attention 
 by his talents and gentle manners. Fuseli would look round for 
 him, and say, " Where is my little dog boy ? " 
 
 * A cast from the collossal figure of the Monte Cavallo, then exhibited in 
 the King's Mews. 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 FUSELI. 
 
 27 
 
 Allan Cunningham has said truly that Fuseli was liked by the 
 students, notwithstanding the occasional violence of his temper. 
 I have no recollection, however, of his being near-sighted, as this 
 biographer asserts. On the contrary, my impression is, that his 
 sight was remarkably good at any distance. He was ambi-dex- 
 trous, and generally corrected our drawings with his left hand. 
 Harlowe's small portrait of him is the most like : but it would 
 have required a Reynolds to do justice to the intelligence of his 
 fine head. His keen eye, of the most transparent blue, I shall 
 never forget. 
 
 None of his peculiarities, either as a man or a painter, pre- 
 vented his being a great favourite among ladies. He was fond 
 of female society, and at the theatre, particularly, as I was told 
 by a lady who knew him intimately, he was a truly delightful 
 companion. He was most fond of those nights when the plays 
 of Shakespeare formed the entertainment, and on such occasions 
 his deep knowledge and enthusiastic admiration of the poet, as 
 well as his own wit, rendered the intervals between the acts as 
 agreeable to his companions as the time occupied in the perform- 
 ance. As the influence of women softened his temper and called 
 forth all his powers of pleasing, it is not surprising that Mary 
 Wolstonecraft fell in love with him when he was fifty, or that 
 more than one lady felt for him something akin to love in the 
 very last years of his life. 
 
 The first large picture I attempted was of Saul and the Witch 
 of Endor. West greatly assisted me in the composition, calling 
 frequently at my room while I was about it. When the picture 
 was done I sent it to the British Gallery for exhibition ; but, as 
 it was not varnished, it appeared unfinished, and was turned out. 
 Mr. West desired me to carry it to his house, where I varnished 
 it in his large room, and there, by his kind influence, it was soon 
 purchased by Sir John Leicester,* who gave me a hundred 
 guineas for it. 
 
 Allston was now in London again. His own health was re- 
 established, but that of his excellent wife was much impaired. 
 They had taken a house and furnished it, having till now lived in 
 lodgings, and had but just removed when her illness suddenly 
 * Afterwards Lord de Tabley. 
 
28 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. II. 
 
 increased, and she died in two or three days. In fact, after tak- 
 ing possession of her new home, she never recrossed the thresh- 
 old alive. She was a sister of Dr. Channing, of whom I often 
 heard her speak before he was known in England. She was 
 never tired of talking of " that little saint, William," as she called 
 him. The very clay of which the Channings were formed 
 seemed to have religion in its composition. Mrs. Allston told 
 me that her brother, when a child, used to turn a chair into a 
 pulpit and preach little sermons to the other children of the fam- 
 ily. I saw Channing often during his short stay in London — 
 and to see was to love him. At his request, I accompanied him 
 to the burying-ground of St. Pancras Chapel, to show him his 
 sister's grave. After the death of his wife, Allston quitted his 
 house and hired apartments at No. 8, Buckingham Place, Fitz- 
 roy Square, where Morse and myself lodged. 
 
 In September, 1817, I went with Allston and William Collins 
 to Paris. We all made studies in the Louvre, and visited the 
 houses of the principal artists, though Gerard was the only one 
 with whom we had an interview, and he, though he received us 
 very politely, did not show us any of his pictures. Of the mod- 
 ern French pictures we did see we were most pleased with those 
 of Guerin. His " Dido and JEneas " was just then completed, 
 and a picture of La Roche Jacquelin heading a charge of Ven- 
 deans. I was asked by a French lady how I liked the great 
 works of David — the " Romans and Sabines " and the " Leoni- 
 das." I said I did not think them natural. 
 
 " Not natural ! " she exclaimed. " I assure you he never 
 paints any object whatever without having nature before him." 
 
 I could have told her, had it been worth while to pursue the 
 argument, that many an artist paints with nature before him with- 
 out pairKing naturally. Many a one paints from nature in the 
 sense in which the Irishman, who was mistaken for a Scotchman, 
 said he was "from Scotland — a great way from Scotland, 
 thanks be to God for that same ! " 
 
 We found that Wilkie's reputation was, at that time, very high 
 in France. " I like your Vilhes, but I don't like your Vest" said 
 a Frenchman to me. 
 
 Being employed to paint some portraits of Americans in Paris, 
 
chap, it.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURES ON SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 29 
 
 I remained there three months, and then returned to London, in 
 company with Stuart Newton, whom I met in Paris for the first 
 time. He. was on his way from Italy to England, and he and I 
 made an excursion through Brussels and Antwerp, where I had 
 the pleasure of dining at the house of my friend, Mr. Clibborn', 
 whose exertions for me in Philadelphia had, in a great measure, 
 led to my becoming a painter. 
 
 Washington Irving was in England, but at Liverpool, occupied 
 with business ; the mercantile house to which he belonged being 
 at that time in a state of embarrassment which led to a bank- 
 ruptcy. When this took place, Irving, after a short excursion to 
 Scotland, where he became known to Sir Walter Scott, came to 
 London with the intention of exerting himself as an author, 
 though with no expectation of becoming popular in England. 
 The " Sketch Book " was written solely with a view to publica- 
 tion in America, where " Salmagundi," and " Knickerbocker " 
 had gained him a high reputation. 
 
 Morse had returned to America, and Allston soon after fol- 
 lowed him. The best picture the latter left in England was his 
 " Jacob's Dream," at Petworth. It was bought by Lord Egre- 
 mont, who invited the artist to Petworth, and would, no doubt, 
 have employed him on other works, if he had remained in this 
 country. The friends with whom I now spent most of my lei- 
 sure were Irving and Newton. 
 
 I had frequent opportunities of seeing and hearing Coleridge. 
 He delivered a course of lectures on Shakespeare, to which he 
 gave me tickets, but I was sorry to see his London audiences 
 much smaller than those at Bristol. The following note from 
 him marks the date of these lectures. 
 
 " Highgate. 
 
 "My dear Leslie, 
 
 " Mr. Colburn has entreated my influence with you to have in- 
 trusted to him for a week or ten days your last drawing of my 
 phiz to have it engraved for his Magazine. I replied that I had 
 no objection, and thought it probable that you would have none, 
 and have in consequence given him this note. 
 
 " You see, alas ! by my scanty audiences that there cannot be 
 
30 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. II. 
 
 the least objection to your taking with you half a dozen friends 
 to my lectures, who are like ourselves, with more in our brains 
 than in our pockets. Why, my dear Leslie, do you so wholly 
 desert us at Highgate ? Are we not always delighted to see you ? 
 Now, too, more than ever ; since, in addition to yourself, you are 
 all we have of Allston. 
 
 "S. T. Coleridge." 
 
 " Is* March, 1819." 
 
 On looking back to the time when this note was written, I 
 grieve to think that I should have allowed my natural indolence, 
 the distance, and occupations, often trifling in comparison with 
 the privilege of enjoying Coleridge's society, to give ground for 
 the charge in the latter part of it. 
 
 It is not the lot of any one, twice in his life, to meet with so 
 extraordinary a man. I now read over and over again what his 
 nephew has recorded of his conversation, and I can vouch for the 
 exactness with which his manner is preserved in those precious 
 little volumes. The remarks there given, on " Othello " and 
 " Hamlet," formed parts of his lectures on Shakespeare : — 
 
 " The clue to the inconsistencies of Hamlet might be found," 
 he said, " in the undue predominance of the inner over the outer 
 man." 
 
 Coleridge did not consider that the passion of jealousy was the 
 subject of the tragedy of " Othello," but that Shakespeare had 
 displayed it fully and truly in the " Winter's Tale." " Othello is 
 anything but jealous in his nature, and made so only by the 
 machinations of lago, while Leontes requires no prompter but his 
 own suspicious mind." He observed, that the difficulty was great 
 in imagining an expression adequate to the feelings of Othello 
 when he first sees Iago after having discovered his villany, and 
 he thought it a master stroke of Shakespeare to surmount it as 
 he has done : 
 
 " I look clown towards his feet; but that's a fable. 
 If that thou be'st a devil I cannot kill thee." 
 
 He pointed out the great dramatic beauty of the opening scenes 
 of " Hamlet," and the admirable skill with which the ghost- is 
 introduced. Although Marcellus and Bernardo are expecting its 
 
chap, ii.] COLERIDGE'S LECTURES ON SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 31 
 
 appearance, and Horatio has joined their watch with the same 
 expectation, and they are even talking about it, its entrance is 
 startling, and every succeeding appearance alike thrilling. In 
 reading passages from the first scenes of this play, Coleridge 
 noticed Shakespeare's respect even for the superstitions connected 
 with the mysteries of Christianity, a beautiful instance of which 
 occurs in the lines, 
 
 " It faded on the crowing of the cock. 
 Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes, 
 Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 
 This bird of dawning singeth all night long: 
 And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; 
 The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, 
 No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm ; 
 So hallow'd and so gracious is the time." 
 
 He said the reply of Horatio was, he believed, exactly that 
 winch Shakespeare himself would have made : 
 
 " So have I heard, and do in part believe it." 
 
 He could never read, he said, any of those scenes in which 
 children are introduced, " without laying the book down and lov- 
 ing Shakespeare over again." He said the anachronisms noticed 
 by Shakespeare's critics would not, perhaps, have given the poet 
 himself any great uneasiness had they been pointed out to him, 
 as possibly they were ; and this may have given rise to that 
 curious intentional anachronism in the third act of " Lear," where 
 the fool, after fourteen lines of a burlesque prediction, says : 
 
 " This prophecy Merlin shall make, for Hive before his time." 
 
 I wish I could recollect what Coleridge said of the character 
 of Falstaff. I only remember, with certainty, his opinion that 
 Shakespeare, in the " Merry Wives of Windsor," had departed 
 from the original conception of the character, and that the Fal- 
 staff in that play, though very amusing, was much below the Fal- 
 staff of the two parts of " Henry the Fourth." I am not sure 
 whether it was Coleridge who remarked, that in the scene in the 
 First Part of " Henry the Fourth," in which Falstaff brags of 
 his feats at Gadshill, he begins with the intention of imposing on 
 
32 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. Hi 
 
 the Prince and Poins, but quickly perceiving that they do not 
 believe him, he goes on buffooning, and adds to the men in buck- 
 ram until they amount to eleven, merely to make the Prince 
 laugh. 
 
 A most interesting portion of Coleridge's lectures consisted in 
 his pointing out the truth and refinement of Shakespeare's women, 
 beyond those of all other dramatists ; and how purified his imagi- 
 nation was from everything gross, in comparison with those of 
 his contemporaries. 
 
 Coleridge's lectures were, unfortunately, extemporaneous. He 
 now and then took up scraps of paper on which he had noted 
 the leading points of his subject, and he had books about him 
 for quotation. On turning to one of these (a work of his own *), 
 he said, " As this is a secret which I confided to the public a year 
 or two ago, and which, to do the public justice, has been very 
 faithfully kept, I may be permitted to read you a passage from it." 
 
 His voice was deep and musical, and his words followed each 
 other in an unbroken flow, yet free from monotony. There was 
 indeed a peculiar charm in his utterance. His pronunciation was 
 remarkably correct : in some respects pedantically so. He gave 
 the full sound of the / in talk, and should and would. 
 
 Sir James Mackintosh attended the whole course of these lec- 
 tures, and listened with the greatest interest. This was heaping 
 coals of fire on the head of Coleridge, who had lampooned him 
 with great severity for his political apostacy, as it was considered. 
 I remember many years afterwards, when I had frequent oppor- 
 tunities of seeing Sir James, hearing him say that the best thing 
 ever said of ghosts was by Coleridge, who, when asked by a lady 
 if he believed in them, replied, "No, Madam, I have seen too 
 many to believe in them." 
 
 It was in company with Coleridge that I first heard the night- 
 ingale, that is, to know that I heard it. It was in a lane near 
 Highgate where there were a number singing, and he easily dis- 
 tinguished and pointed out to me their full rich notes among those 
 of other birds, for it was in • the day time. He even told how 
 many were there. He took me to an eminence in the neighbor- 
 hood, commanding a view of Caen wood, and said the assemblage 
 * Probably the " Biographia Literaria," published in 1817. 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 FRAGMENTS OF COLERIDGE. 
 
 33 
 
 of objects, as seen from that point, reminded him of the passage 
 in Milton, beginning — 
 
 " Strait mine eye hath caught new pleasures, 
 Whilst the landskip round it measures; " 
 
 — and running through the following eighteen or twenty lines. 
 
 Among the fragments of his conversation that I remember, are 
 the following : — 
 
 " How natural is the exaggeration in the account the woman 
 of Samaria carries to her friends of our Saviour. * Come, see a 
 man which told me all things that ever I did ; ' when, in reality, 
 our Lord had only told her that she had had five husbands, and 
 that he, whom she now had, was not her husband." 
 
 He said he did not doubt but that in the 12th chapter of St. 
 Matthew, the 40th verse was a gloss : 
 
 ' " For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's 
 belly : so shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights in 
 the heart of the earth." 
 
 Now, as our Saviour was crucified on Friday, and rose again * 
 on Sunday morning, he was but one entire day and two nights in 
 the tomb ; besides which the following verse shows sufficiently 
 what was intended by the refusal to give any other sign than the 
 sign of the prophet Jonas. 
 
 u The men of Nineveh shall rise up in judgment with this gen- 
 eration and condemn it, because they repented at the preaching 
 of Jonas, and behold, a greater than Jonas is here." 
 
 Speaking of the utilitarians, Coleridge said, " The penny saved 
 penny got utilitarians forget, or do not comprehend, high moral 
 utility, — the utility of poetry and of painting, and of all that 
 exalts and refines our nature." He thought Lord Byron's misan- 
 thropy was affected, or partly so, and that it would wear off as 
 he grew older. He said that Byron's perpetual quarrel with the 
 world was as absurd as if the spoke of a wheel should quarrel 
 witli the movement of which it must of necessity partake. 
 
 But Lord Byron had not then proved, as he afterwards did, 
 that with all his surprising and varied powers, possessing an eye 
 for material beauty, and extraordinary eloquence in describing it, 
 he wanted the first requisite of a great poet, a true perception of 
 moral beauty. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. II. 
 
 Coleridge dearly loved Allston, and of Mrs. Allston lie said 
 (and I who knew her intimately, can bear witness how truly), 
 " She is an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." 
 
 I once found Coleridge driving the balls on a bagatelle board 
 for a kitten to run after them. He noticed that, as soon as the 
 little thing turned its back to the balls it seemed to forget all 
 about them, and played with its tail. " I am amused," he said, 
 u with their little short memories." 
 
 Coleridge's want of success in all worldly matters may be at- 
 tributed to the mastery possessed over him by his own wonderful 
 mind. Common men as often succeed by the qualities they want, 
 as great men fail by those they have. Coleridge could not direct 
 his extraordinary powers to the immediately useful occupations 
 of life, or to those exercises of them likely to procure him bread, 
 unless he was perpetually urged on by some kind friend. The 
 tragedy of " Remorse " was written whilst he lived with Mr. 
 Morgan, and I believe would never have been completed but for 
 'the importunities of Mrs. Morgan. A few days after the ap- 
 pearance of his piece, he was sitting in the coffee-room of a hotel, 
 and heard his name coupled with a coroner's inquest, by a gentle- 
 man who was reading a newspaper to a friend. He asked to see 
 the paper, which was handed to him with the remark that " It 
 was very extraordinary that Coleridge, the poet, should have 
 hanged himself just after the success of his play ; but he was al- 
 ways a strange mad fellow." " Indeed, sir," said Coleridge, " it is 
 a most extraordinary thing that he should have hanged himself, 
 be the subject of an inquest, and yet that he should at this moment 
 be speaking to you." The astonished stranger hoped he had " said 
 nothing to hurt his feelings," and was made easy on that point. 
 The newspaper related that a gentleman in black had been cut 
 down from a tree in Hyde Park, without money or papers in 
 his pockets, his shirt being marked " S. T. Coleridge ; " and 
 Coleridge was at no loss to understand how this might have 
 happened, since he seldom travelled without losing a shirt or two. 
 
 When Allston was suffering extreme depression of spirits, im- 
 mediately after the loss of his wife, he was haunted, during sleep- 
 less nights, by horrid thoughts ; and he told me that diabolical 
 imprecations forced themselves into his mind. The distress of 
 
CHAP. II.] 
 
 ALLSTON. CHARLES LAMB. 
 
 35 
 
 this to a man so sincerely religious as Allston, may be imagined. 
 He wished to consult Coleridge, but could not summon resolution. 
 He desired, therefore, that I would do it ; and I went to High- 
 gate, where Coleridge was at that time living with Mr. Gillman. 
 I found him walking in the garden, his hat in his hand (as it 
 generally was in the open air), for he told me that, having been 
 one of the Blue-coat boys, among whom it is the fashion to go 
 bare-headed, he had acquired a dislike to any covering of the 
 head. I explained the cause of my visit, and he said, "Allston 
 should say to himself, ' Nothing is me but my will. These 
 thoughts, therefore, that force themselves on my mind are no part 
 of me, and there can be no guilt in them.' If he will make a 
 strong effort to become indifferent to their recurrence they will 
 either cease, or cease to trouble him." He said much more, but 
 this was the substance, and after it was repeated to Allston, I did 
 not hear him again complain of the same kind of disturbance. 
 
 At Mr. Morgan's house in Berners Street, I first saw Charles 
 Lamb, who was intimate in a literary coterie composed of per- 
 sons with principles very opposite to those of Coleridge. Some- 
 body, wishing to give the latter a favourable impression of these 
 people, spoke of Lamb's friendship for them ; and Coleridge re- 
 plied, " Charles Lamb's character is a sacred one with me ; no 
 associations that he may form can hurt the purity of his mind, 
 but it is not, therefore, necessary that I should see all men with 
 his eyes." There can be no doubt that it was of Lamb he spoke 
 in the following passage from the " Table Talk : " — " Nothing 
 ever left a stain on that gentle creature's mind, which looked 
 upon the degraded men and things around him like moonshine on 
 a dunghill, which shines and takes no pollution. All things are 
 shadows to him, except those which move his affections." No 
 one ever more fully pictured his own mind in his writings than 
 Lamb has done in his delightful Essays ; and every reader of 
 them, I think, must acknowledge that Coleridge, in what he said, 
 only did his friend justice. But Lamb, from the dread of ap- 
 pearing affected, sometimes injured himself by his behaviour before 
 persons who were slightly acquainted with him. With the finest 
 and tenderest feelings ever possessed by man, he seemed care- 
 fully to avoid any display of sentimentality in his talk. The fol- 
 
30 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. II. 
 
 lowing trifling anecdote is merely given as an illustration of his 
 playfulness. I dined with him one day at Mr. Gillman's. Return- 
 ing to town in the stage-coach, which was filled with Mr. Gill- 
 man's guests, we stopped for a minute or two at Kentish Town. 
 A woman asked the coachman, " are you full inside ? " Upon 
 which Lamb put his head through the window and said, " I am 
 quite full inside ; that last piece of pudding at Mr. Gillman's did 
 the business for me." 
 
 Much as I then admired the traits of his mind and feelings 
 shown in his charming Essays, little did I comprehend the entire 
 worth of his character. I had often met his sister Mary, a quiet 
 old lady, who was like him in face, but stouter in figure. I knew 
 that, at times, her mind had been unhinged from an early period, 
 but I never heard of the dreadful act with which her insanity 
 began until long after the time of which I am writing ; and I 
 was unacquainted, therefore, with the unparalleled excellence of 
 her brother, the strength of his love, the greatness of his courage, 
 and that noble system of economy in which he persevered to the 
 end of his days, so difficult to a man who had so thorough a rel- 
 ish for all the elegances and luxuries of life ; indeed impossible, 
 had he not had a still higher relish for the luxury of goodness. 
 The letters published, after his death and that of his sister, by 
 Mr. Talfourd, make up a volume of more interest to me than 
 any book of human composition. 
 
 I have noticed that Lamb sometimes did himself injustice by 
 his odd sayings and actions, and he now and then did the same 
 by his writings. His " Confessions of a Drunkard " greatly ex- 
 aggerate any habits of excess he may ever have indulged. The 
 regularity of his attendance at the India House, and the liberal 
 manner in which he was rewarded for that attendance, prove that 
 he never could have been a drunkard. Well, indeed, would it 
 be for the world if such extraordinary virtues as he possessed 
 were often found in company with so very few faults. 
 
 Sir George Beaumont left £100 to Mrs. Coleridge, but nothing 
 to her husband, who was then, as always, very poor. Lamb was 
 indignant at this, and said it seemed to mark Coleridge with a 
 stigma. " If," he added, " Coleridge was a scamp, Sir George 
 should not have continued, as he did, to invite him to dinner." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 President West — Washington Irving and Walter Scott — Visit to Oxford — 
 Elected associate — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Flaxman and Lawrence — 
 Flaxman and Canova — Chantrey — Garrick and Parliament. 
 
 I should have mentioned that, in the year 1818, I was in- 
 vited into Devonshire by my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop, 
 who had taken a house at Dawlish for the season. I spent a 
 fortnight very delightfully with them, and then visited Plymouth, 
 and the pretty village of Plympton, where I made a sketch of 
 the house in which Sir Joshua Reynolds was born. 
 
 After my return to London I painted, for Mr. Dunlop, " Sir 
 Roger de Coverley going to Church, accompanied by 4 The Spec- 
 tator.'" This picture attracted more notice in the Exhibition 
 than anything I had hitherto painted, and the Marquis of Lans- 
 downe employed me to repeat the subject for him. 
 
 In the spring of 1819, Mr. West was confined to his house by 
 illness. I was with him a few days before the close of the Exhi- 
 bition, and on his expressing a wish that he could see it, I asked 
 him if it was not possible. He answered " that he was too feeble 
 to go on a public day, and that his only chance of visiting it was 
 on the day after it closed ; but that, if the Prince Regent went, 
 he, as President, must attend upon His Royal Highness — a cer- 
 emony for which he was too unwell." 
 
 " But surely," said I, " the Prince, knowing how ill you are, 
 would excuse you from the fatigue of attendance." 
 
 " No," he replied ; " if the Prince goes, I cannot ; " and then, 
 after a pause, he added, " Mr. Leslie, it is now many years since 
 I have had cause to know the wisdom of David's advice, ' put 
 not your trust in princes.' " 
 
 George the Third had been cordially West's friend, as long as 
 he possessed his senses ; but as soon as his derangement trans- 
 
38 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. III. 
 
 ferred his powers to others, the pension Mr. West had received 
 from him was stopped, and he was given to understand that those 
 works he was engaged on for the King, would not be paid for. 
 He was unable to see the Exhibition of 1819, whether in conse- 
 quence of ill-health, or of its being visited by the Prince, I now 
 forget ; and before the Exhibition of 1820, this eminent artist, 
 and amiable, generous man, was no more. 
 
 Constable told me that on calling at his house the day after his 
 death, West's old and faithful servant, Robert Brenning, remarked 
 to him, " Ah, sir ! where will they go now ? " meaning the 
 younger artists. And well might the old man say so ; for al- 
 though I know of no eminent painter in London, who is not will- 
 ing to communicate instruction to any of his brethren who need 
 it, yet at that time there was not, nor indeed has there been since, 
 any one so accessible as Mr. West, and, I may add, so well quali- 
 fied to give advice on every branch of the art. He had gener- 
 ally a levee of artists at his house every morning before he began 
 work.* Nor did a shabby coat or an old hat, ever occasion his 
 door to be shut in the face of the wearer. Constable said truly 
 of West that, " in his own room, and with a picture before him, 
 his instructions were invaluable ; but, as a public lecturer, he 
 failed." This arose, partly, perhaps from diffidence. On the only 
 occasion on which I heard him address an assembly, the vener- 
 able old man, when he began to speak, blushed like a young girl. 
 In this lecture, he explained to us his theory of the arrangement 
 of colours, which he said was founded on the rainbow. The 
 principal masses of warm colour, as orange, yellow, and red, by 
 this principle, he placed on that side of the picture where the 
 light enters, and the green, blue, and purple on the opposite side, 
 where also he placed his chief mass of white. He said he could 
 only trace the observance of this rule, as a principle, in the later 
 works of RafFaelle, and that it was from studying the cartoons he 
 had discovered it. He admitted that in Titian's " Peter Martyr," 
 the arrangement of colour is on a plan exactly contrary, but 
 added, " Titian's eye was so fine that he could produce harmony 
 by any arrangement." 
 
 * This, I am told, was also the case with Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was 
 equally ready to advise and assist young painters. 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 PRESIDENT WEST. 
 
 30 
 
 I remember his remarking to me how different, at different 
 times, and under different circumstances, the same picture may- 
 appear to us, and how greatly we are often influenced in the im- 
 pression we receive from one picture, by the effect produced on 
 us by another which we have just seen. As an illustration of 
 this, he told me that, having to superintend an alteration of the 
 arrangement of some of the pictures in the Royal collection (of 
 which he had the care), and knowing that a Vandyke, which Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds greatly admired, would be taken down, he called 
 on him on his way, and Sir Joshua very gladly accompanied him 
 to Buckingham House. They found the Vandyke standing on the 
 floor. Sir Joshua eagerly ran up to it, and after examining it 
 very closely, turned to Mr. West with an air of disappointment, 
 and said, "After all it is a copy." To this "West made no 
 immediate reply, but they looked at some of the other pictures in 
 the room ; and then returning to the Vandyke, Reynolds said, " I 
 don't know what to think of it ; it is much more beautiful than 
 it appeared to me at first. It can hardly be a copy." Mr. West 
 replied, " I have no doubt of its originality, and I can explain the 
 cause of your disappointment on first seeing it. When I called 
 on you, you were engaged on one of your own dashing back- 
 grounds, preparing it with the brightest colours for glazing. 
 Your eye had perhaps been for an hour on your own work, 
 and anything would look tame and dull after it. The Vandyke 
 appeared to you, at first sight, to want brightness, and to be weak 
 and timid in execution ; but when you had looked at the other 
 pictures in the room and returned to it, the taste, truth, and deli- 
 cacy with which it is painted, became apparent to you." 
 
 In talking with Mr. West on dress, he mentioned the great im- 
 portance that attached to an expensive wig within his own recol- 
 lection. He remembered an argument on the merits of O'Brian,* 
 an actor of genteel comedy in the early part of the reign of 
 George the Third, in which a gentleman of the old school main- 
 tained, contrary to the opinion of the company, that he was not 
 
 * The same whose marriage with Lady Susan Fox, eldest daughter of the 
 first Lord Ilchester, excited such a sensation in the fashionable world of the 
 last century. (See Walpole's letter to the Earl of Hertford of April 12, 
 1764.) — Ed. 
 
40 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. HI. 
 
 successful in characters of high life. " Mr. O'Brian," said he, 
 " does not play the fine gentleman ; nor can any man play the 
 fine gentleman without a fifty guinea wig on his head.'' 
 
 Gait, in his " Life of West," says, " When the West family 
 emigrated, John, the father of Benjamin, was left to complete 
 his education at the great school of the Quakers, at Uxbridge, 
 and did not join his relations in America till the year 1714." 
 Whether or not John West went to America immediately on 
 leaving school, I have heard, on good authority, that he was 
 married before he left England, and that his wife, not being in 
 a condition to undertake the voyage, remained at home, an- 
 other reason for this being his uncertainty whether he should 
 settle in America. She gave birth to a son, and died. The 
 child was taken care of by relations, who, when the father de- 
 sired it should be sent to him, begged to keep it. To this he 
 assented ; and marrying again, the painter was the youngest of 
 the ten children of his American wife. When Benjamin left 
 home to seek his fortune in Europe, he was engaged to the lady 
 he afterwards married, Elizabeth Shewell. In 17G5 his vener- 
 able father accompanied her to England, and then, for the first 
 time in his life, was introduced to his eldest son, who was fifty 
 years of age. He was a watchmaker, and lived at Reading. 
 
 There is a stippled engraving * of West's family, which I re- 
 member to have seen in the window of a print shop in Philadel- 
 phia when I was so young as not even to have heard of the 
 painter. The natural and simple treatment of the subject made 
 a great impression on me even then, and to this hour it has not 
 ceased to interest me more than any other composition by West, 
 great or small. I look on it indeed as the most original of all his 
 works ; and cannot but regret that, instead of being ambitious to 
 produce, too rapidly for excellence, many pictures of large dimen- 
 sions, he had not looked more about him in real life for subjects 
 like this, in which he seems to have been eminently qualified to 
 excel. His works of higher pretension, compared with it, prove 
 the truth of Johnson's remark, " That which is greatest is not 
 always best." The picture, which now belongs to Raphael West 
 (the boy standing by his mother's side), is no larger than the 
 * This engraving used to hang in Leslie's drawing-room. — Ed. 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 PRESIDENT WEST. 
 
 41 
 
 print, and of no great excellence in colour. "West himself seems 
 to have been pleased with the group, as a happy treatment of 
 the often-painted subject, " The Ages of Man." To my mind, 
 it is incomparably the best. He repeated it with great variations; 
 substituting loose draperies for the modern dresses, and it im- 
 mediately became common-place ; an additional proof to those 
 furnished by the histories of most artists of the danger of en- 
 deavouring to improve on incidents taken from real life. In the 
 first picture, everything is individual and characteristic, every- 
 thing essential. The hats on the heads of John West and his 
 eldest son, in the presence of a lady, mark the sect who never 
 uncover their heads in token of respect but when they kneel to 
 God. These relatives are paying their first visit to Mrs. West 
 on the birth of her second child. They are sitting, as is the 
 custom of quakers, for a few minutes in silent meditation, which 
 will soon be ended by the old man's taking off his hat and offer- 
 ing up a prayer for the mother and infant. Wilkie greatly ad- 
 mired this composition before he knew the entire meaning of the 
 subject. He was struck with its extreme simplicity, and the un- 
 ostentatious breadth of its masses of light and dark. 
 
 Mr. West told me that on asking his father how he was struck 
 with the appearance of London after his long absence, he re- 
 plied, " The streets and houses look very much as they did ; but 
 can thee tell me what has become of all the Englishmen ? When 
 I left England, the men were a portly, comely race, with broad 
 skirts and large flowing wigs; rather slow in their movements, 
 and grave and dignified in their deportment : but now they are 
 docked and cropped, and skipping about in scanty clothes like so 
 many monkeys." The impression made on the old man shows 
 how greatly French fashions and manners had gained ground in 
 England during the half century he had passed in America. 
 
 In Hogarth's works there are many hints of this. The bride- 
 groom in the first picture of the " Marriage a la Mode," is evi- 
 dently dressed on the model of a Paris beau ; the boy beating a 
 drum in " The enraged Musician," has been metamorphosed, as 
 far as dress could do it, into a little Frenchman ; the two gallants 
 in the boxes in " The laughing Audience," are as French as 
 possible, while the pit is filled with plain English folk who are not 
 
42 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. III. 
 
 too fine to take an interest in the performance ; and in " Taste in 
 High Life," the antiquated beau, dressed in the extreme of the 
 Parisian fashion, has succeeded in making himself look very like 
 a monkey. Goldsmith represents the landlord of "The Three 
 Pigeons " as telling Tony Lumpkin that Hastings and Marlowe 
 " may be Londoners, for they look woundily like Frenchmen." 
 
 This fashion was checked by the French Revolution, and put 
 an end to, for a time, by the war that followed it ; but there can 
 be no doubt that, though often interrupted by political events, it is 
 (among the aristocracy of England) as old as the time of William 
 of Normandy, and the natural result of the Conquest.* 
 
 In April, 1820, Irving took me to breakfast with Sir Walter 
 Scott, who was then in London, and at the house of his friend, 
 Mrs. Dumergue, in Piccadilly. I had never before seen the great 
 novelist. He was in the full enjoyment of his high and increas- 
 ing reputation, and he appeared to great advantage. A large 
 party of ladies and gentlemen were assembled at the breakfast 
 table, among whom was one of the sons of Johnson's Boswell. 
 
 Nothing could be more agreeable than my daily intercourse at 
 this period with Irving and Newton. We visited in the same 
 families, chiefly Americans resident in London, and generally 
 dined together at the York Chop House, in Wardour Street. 
 Irving's brother, Peter, an amiable man, and not without a dash 
 of Washington's humour, was always of our party. Delightful 
 were our excursions to Richmond or Greenwich, or to some 
 suburban fair, on the top of a coach. The harmony that sub- 
 sisted among us was uninterrupted ; but Irving grew into fame as 
 an author, and being, all at once, made a great lion of by fashion- 
 able people, he was much withdrawn from us. Newton, too, who 
 was naturally formed for society, was soon much noticed for his 
 agreeable qualities, as well as for his eminence in art, and our 
 intercourse was a good deal interrupted in consequence. 
 
 Irving writing to me from Paris in 1824, said, " I often look 
 back with fondness and regret on the times when we lived to- 
 gether in London, in a delightful community of thought and feel- 
 ing ; struggling our way onward in the world, but cheering and 
 
 * I should be inclined to trace it to a more recent soui*ce of influence — the 
 imitation of French fashions among the courtiers of the Restoration. — Ed. 
 
chap, m.] 
 
 VISIT TO OXFORD. 
 
 43 
 
 encouraging each other. I find nothing to supply the place of 
 that heartfelt fellowship." 
 
 I had been for some time what is called acquainted with Con- 
 stable, but it was only by degrees and in the course of years that 
 I became really acquainted either with his worth as a man, or his 
 true value as an artist. My taste was very faulty and .Jong in 
 forming ; and of landscape, which I had never studied, I really 
 knew nothing, or worse than nothing, for I admired, as poetical, 
 styles which I now see to be mannered, conventional, or extrava- 
 gant. But the more I knew of Constable, the more I regretted 
 that I had not known him at the commencement of my studies. 
 
 As I have published all I recollect of him that seems to me 
 best worth preserving, I have nothing to add except some memo- 
 randa made at a later period than that of which I am now writ- 
 ing. 
 
 ToAvards the close of the summer of 1821, I made a delightful 
 excursion with Washington Irving to Birmingham, and thence 
 into Derbyshire. We mounted the top of one of the Oxford 
 coaches at three o'clock in the afternoon, intending only to go as 
 far as Henley that night ; but the evening was so fine, and the 
 fields, filled with labourers gathering in the corn by the light of a 
 full moon, presented so animated an appearance, that although we 
 had not dined we determined to proceed to Oxford, which we 
 reached about eleven o'clock, and then sat down to a hot supper. 
 
 The next day it rained unceasingly, and we were confined to 
 the inn, like the nervous traveller whom Irving has described as 
 spending a day in endeavouring to penetrate the mystery of " the 
 stout gentleman." This wet Sunday at Oxford did, in fact, sug- 
 gest to him that capital story, if story it can be called. The next 
 morning, as we mounted the coach, I said something about a stout 
 gentleman who had come from London with us the day before, 
 and Irving remarked that " The Stout Gentleman," would not be 
 a bad title for a tale. As soon as the coach stopped he began 
 writing with his pencil, and went on at every like opportunity. 
 We visited Stratford on Avon, strolled about Charlecot Park and 
 other places in the neighbourhood, and while I was sketching, 
 Irving, mounted on a stile, or seated on a stone, was busily en- 
 gaged with " The Stout Gentleman " He wrote with the greatest 
 
44 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. III. 
 
 rapidity, often laughing to himself, and from time to time reading 
 the manuscript to me. We loitered some days in this classic 
 neighbourhood, visiting Warwick and Kenilworth ; and by the 
 time we arrived at Birmingham, the outline of " The Stout 
 Gentleman " was completed. The amusing account of " The 
 Modem Knights Errant," he added at Birmingham, and the 
 inimitable picture of the inn yard on a rainy day was taken from 
 an inn where we were afterwards quartered at Derby. 
 
 It had been the custom for visitors to Shakespeare's house to 
 scribble their names, and sometimes scraps of bad poetry, on its 
 walls. Irving, on a former visit to Stratford, had given a large 
 blank book to the woman who had the care of the house, to save 
 the walls from further desecration. We found in it the name of 
 Sir Walter Scott, who had been there with a party not long 
 before, and were amused with the following anonymous parody 
 on the inscription which Shakespeare wrote for his own tomb : 
 
 " Good friend, for Shakespeare's sake, forbear 
 Thy wit or lore to scribble here; 
 Blessed are they that rightly con him, 
 And curs'd be they that comment on him." 
 
 In November, 1821, I was elected an associate of the Royal 
 Academy. I was, on every account, much elated with this event, 
 one of the great advantages resulting from which was the oppor- 
 tunities it afforded me of frequent intercourse with the best 
 artists ; with Wilkie, Stothard, Flaxman, Chantrey, Lawrence, 
 Turner, Chalon, and Smirke, upon whom, though he had then 
 retired from the Avorld, I was now entitled to call. I found him 
 a most sensible and agreeable man. I remember, when I was a 
 student of the Academy, hearing Sam Strowger tell of a dialogue 
 that had just passed between Fuseli and himself, as follows : — 
 
 " Sam, I am invited to dine out ; have you any objection to my 
 going?" 
 
 " That's according where it is, Mr. Fuseli." 
 " At Mr. Smirke's, Sam." 
 
 " Oh no, sir. Mr. Smirke is a very nice gentleman ; and I 
 only wish I was qualified to go with you, sir." 
 
 Strowger will long be remembered at the Academy, not only 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 ELECTED ASSOCIATE. 
 
 45 
 
 as a character, but as the most intelligent and faithful of servants 
 to the Institution. When he brought me my Associate's diploma, 
 he said, " I wish you health to enjoy it, sir, and I hope I shall 
 soon bring you another ; but all in good time ; we must not be in 
 too great a hurry to get rid of old masters and get new ones ; " 
 and then, fearing he had depressed me, he added in a lower tone, 
 " but there are some of them, sir, can't last long." 
 
 It is the etiquette for a newly-elected member to call immedi- 
 ately on all the Academicians, and I did not omit paying my 
 respects to Northcote among the rest, although I knew he was not 
 on good terms with the Academy. I was shown up stairs into a 
 large front room filled with pictures, many of the larger ones 
 resting against each other, and all of them dim with dust. I had 
 not waited long, when a door opened which communicated with 
 his painting-room, and the old gentleman appeared, but did not 
 advance beyond it. His diminutive figure was enveloped in a 
 chintz dressing-gown, below which his trowsers, which looked as 
 if made for a much taller man, hung in loose folds over an im- 
 mense pair of shoes, into which his legs seemed to have shrunk 
 down. His head was covered with a blue silk night-cap, and 
 from under that and his projecting brows, his sharp black eyes 
 peered at me with a whimsical expression of inquiry. There he 
 stood, with his palette and brushes in one hand, and a mahl-stick, 
 twice as long as himself, in the other ; his attitude and look say- 
 ing, for he did not speak, " What do you want ? " On telling 
 him that I had been elected an Associate of the Academy, he 
 said quickly, " And who's the other ? " " Mr. Clint," I replied. 
 " And so Clint's got it at last. You are an architect, I believe." 
 I set him right ; and he continued, " Well, sir, you owe nothing 
 to me ; I never go near them ; indeed I never go out at night 
 anywhere." I told him I knew that, but thought it right to pay 
 my respects to all the Academicians, and hoped I was not inter- 
 rupting him. He said, " By no means ; " and asked me into his 
 painting-room, where he was at work on an equestrian picture of 
 George IV., as large as life, which he must have made up from 
 busts and pictures. " I was desirous," he said, " to paint the 
 King, for there is no picture that is like him " (I could not help 
 contrasting to myself Lawrence's pictures of his Majesty with the 
 
40 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. III. 
 
 one before me, and by no means to its advantage) ; " and he is by 
 far," continued Northcote, " the best King of his family we have 
 had. It *has been remarked that this country is best governed by 
 a woman, for then the government is carried on by able men ; 
 and George IV. is like a woman, for he minds only his own 
 amusements, and leaves the affairs of the country to his ministers, 
 instead of meddling himself, as his father did. He is just what a 
 King of England should be, something to look grand, and to hang 
 the robes on." 
 
 He talked of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and I asked him whether 
 he thought Sir Joshua was fully aware of his own great excel- 
 lence. He said, "Perhaps not; I believe Sir Joshua did not, in 
 his own estimation, rank himself as high as Vandyke. When 
 young artists asked him to lend them his pictures to copy, he did 
 not refuse, but was accustomed to say, 6 If you can get a fine 
 Vandyke, it will be much more useful to you.' " 
 
 Northcote showed me what I supposed to be a picture by 
 Reynolds ; but he told me it was a copy by Jackson, and said, " I 
 have been myself deceived by his copies." 
 
 I asked leave to repeat my visit, which was readily granted, 
 and from that time we were very good friends. He talked better 
 than he painted. 
 
 When I first found myself painting in the exhibition rooms of 
 the Royal Academy, where most of its members were at work, 
 retouching their pictures, I was a good deal puzzled at the very 
 opposite advice I received from authorities equally high. North- 
 cote came in, and it was the only time I ever saw him at the 
 Academy. He had a large picture there, and not hung in the 
 best of places, at which he was much dissatisfied. I told him of 
 my difficulties, and that Wilkie and Lawrence had just given me 
 extraordinary advice. " Everybody," he said, " will advise you 
 to do what he himself Avould do, but you are to consider and 
 judge for yourself whether you are likely to do it as he would, 
 and if not you may spoil your picture." 
 
 Northcote then complained to Phillips of the ill-usage he had 
 received from the Academy, and said, " I have scarcely ever had 
 a picture well hung. I wish I had never belonged to you." 
 
 Phillips said, laughing, " We can turn you out." 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 FLAXMAN AND LAWRENCE. 
 
 47 
 
 " The sooner you do so the better ; only think of the men you 
 have turned out ; you turned out Sir Joshua, you turned out 
 Barry, and you turned out West ; and I shall be very glad to 
 make a fourth in such company." 
 
 The truth is, Sir Joshua and West had each resigned the chair 
 for a short time, in consequence of some displeasure with the 
 Academy ; and therefore what Northcote said was more ingenious 
 than true ; but it was not a bad specimen of his readiness in 
 reply. 
 
 When Mr. Shee paid him some compliments, with the adroit- 
 ness which was natural to him, Northcote said, " Very well, 
 indeed ; you are just the man to write a tragedy, you know how 
 to make a speech." At another time, Northcote complimented 
 Shee in his own peculiar manner by saying, " You should have 
 been in Parliament instead of the Academy." 
 
 I lived still in Buckingham Place, Fitzroy Square, and was, 
 therefore, a very near neighbour to Flaxman, whose studio I 
 often visited. I remember seeing there some beautiful casts, in 
 plaster of Paris, from real flowers, branches of laurel, ivy, &c. 
 Being attached to backgrounds, they had the appearance of ex- 
 quisite carvings in high relief. The firmer flowers and leaves 
 were perfectly moulded, as the lily, laurels, &c. ; and even roses 
 were cast with surprising success. 
 
 Flaxman was always very kind in giving me his advice ; but 
 his manner was almost painfully polite ; he would say, " If I 
 might presume to suggest," &c. In this he resembled Lawrence, 
 and such a manner had the effect, though not intended, of keeping 
 people at a distance. I felt that it would be difficult to become 
 intimate either with Flaxman or Lawrence. 
 
 Though Flaxman's art is in a great degree eclectic, yet he had, 
 unquestionably, an exquisite feeling, entirely his own, for what- 
 ever is most graceful in nature. His imitation of the antique, 
 and of early Italian art, occasionally betrayed him into a manner 
 somewhat pedantic ; yet it is not that mere mimicry which the 
 Germans of the present day (I am writing in 1843), have fallen 
 into. He imitated classical art as N. Poussin did, with constant 
 reference to nature. Allston told me that, having complimented 
 Flaxman on his designs from Homer, Dante, &c, the latter said, 
 
48 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. III. 
 
 " I will now show you the sources of many of them," and he laid 
 before him a great number of sketches from nature, of accidental 
 groups, attitudes, &c, which he had seen in the streets, and in 
 rooms. I have myself seen Flaxman stop in the street to make a 
 sketch of some attitude that struck him. There can be no doubt 
 that his outlines, particularly the series from Dante, led the way 
 to what the Germans are now doing. They began by outlines 
 from Faust, &c, and are now all becoming little children in art, 
 as they seem to fancy, by imitating the infancy of the Italian 
 schools. But they forget that the charms of infancy cannot be 
 assumed. Hence, though their works, by a mere external re- 
 semblance to early art, may deceive the superficial, all who are 
 really capable of separating that which is the essence, from that 
 which only belongs to the accidents of the age, the country, &c, 
 must see that nothing can, in reality, be less like the art of Giotto, 
 and the infancy of Raphael's style, than what the Germans seem 
 almost desirous of palming on the world for veritable designs by 
 those masters. The mantle of Raphael has not yet fallen among 
 them. 
 
 Flaxman and Stothard would have been among the foremost 
 artists in the days of Julius II. and Leo X., but England, in the 
 times of George III. and IV., was utterly unworthy of them. 
 The British aristocracy, with the exception of Lord Egremont, 
 patronised Canova, and almost every English sculptor rather than 
 Flaxman, the greatest of all. He was, indeed, above their com- 
 prehension, and thus he found time, while his chisel was unem- 
 ployed, for his outline compositions ; works which are looked to 
 as a mine of wealth by all European sculptors, and from which 
 painters as well as sculptors, British and foreign, have largely 
 helped themselves. 
 
 Canova, who was a noble-minded man, took every opportunity 
 of pointing out the merits of Flaxman to the English nobility 
 while they were crowding his studio, and giving him commissions 
 which he was sometimes obliged to refuse. " You English," he 
 said, " see with your ears." * 
 
 Lord Egremont, an exception to this reproach, employed Flax- 
 man on his noble group of the Archangel Michael piercing Satan, 
 * This I was told by Mr. Rogers. 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 FLAXMAN AND CHANTREY. 
 
 40 
 
 and on a beautiful figure of a pastoral Apollo ; but whatever other 
 patronage he may have received from the nobility, it was miser- 
 ably scanty for so great a genius. What must foreigners think 
 who visit London (and who, if they have any taste, must be well 
 acquainted with the powers of Flaxman) when they walk through 
 our streets and squares, and meet with no work of his hand ex- 
 cepting only one of the statues and the bas-reliefs in front of 
 Covent Garden Theatre, for which his country is indebted solely 
 to the private regard of the architect, and John Kemble, for 
 Flaxman ? 
 
 I have been told by Mr. Baily, that Flaxman would not have 
 been employed on the statue of Nelson for St. Paul's, had it not 
 been that the hero himself was acquainted with him, and was 
 known to have said, " If ever there should be a statue erected 
 of me, I hope, Flaxman, you will carve it." He had competed 
 unsuccessfully for the monument in St. Paul's, and when, for the 
 reason mentioned, it was agreed by the committee of taste that 
 he should make the statue of Nelson, he was desired to work 
 from Westmacott's design, which the committee preferred to his 
 own ! ! 
 
 He submitted, but never competed again. Chantrey was wiser, 
 and never competed on any occasion. As a man, he was as dif- 
 ferent from Flaxman in manner as in appearance. Handsome 
 (his mouth exceedingly beautiful), with a bluff John Bull look, 
 and a bluntness of manner not quite pleasant, but playful, witty, 
 and in general good natured. His strong native sense and tact 
 compensated for his entire want of book learning. He was an 
 admirable speaker ; always clear, forcible, and to the purpose, 
 with not a word too many or too few, the effect of what he said 
 being aided by a fine, deep voice. 
 
 With respect to his art, he seems to me the Reynolds of por- 
 trait sculpture. Excepting the first portrait Lawrence painted of 
 West, and the one he painted of the Duke of Wellington for Sir 
 P. Peel, all the portraits I have seen by his hand are far sur- 
 passed by* Chantrey 's busts, whenever the same people sat to 
 both. It is much to be regretted that Chantrey made so few 
 busts of women. One I remember of a German princess, a re- 
 lation, I think, of Queen Adelaide, was exceedingly lovely. It 
 4 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. III. 
 
 was posthumous, and made from a cast taken after death. The 
 bust of Queen Victoria I thought also a charming work. It is 
 saying but little for it, that it is by far the best yet made. 
 Chantrey often showed his powers most when he had an in- 
 different subject. His bust of William IV. appeared to me a 
 great triumph of art. He managed to preserve a very strong 
 likeness, and without gross flattery contrived to give a kingly 
 air to it, of which certainly honest King William had very 
 little. 
 
 I had painted a portrait of a nobleman, of whom Chantrey 
 had just made a bust, and I asked him if I could do anything to 
 make my picture more like* He had not formed a very high 
 opinion of the inside of his Lordship's head, and pointing to the 
 ears, he said, " Make them longer." 
 
 The friends of a lad who had determined on applying himself 
 to sculpture, consulted me about placing him with a master. I 
 recommended Chantrey, and meeting him a day or two afterwards 
 in the Antique School at the Academy, I asked him if he took 
 pupils. u No ; why do you ask ? " I told him that a young 
 friend of mine would be glad to study with him. " I can teach 
 him nothing," he said, " let him come here." " He does, but how 
 is he to learn the use of the chisel ? " " Any stone mason can teach 
 him that better than I can. He must become a workman before 
 he can be a sculptor. One great fault of our sculptors is that 
 few of them are workmen." 
 
 Edwin Landseer, the best of mimics, gave a capital specimen 
 of Chan trey's manner, and at Chantrey's own table. Dining at 
 his house with a large party, after the cloth was removed from 
 the beautifully polished mahogany — Chantrey's furniture was all 
 beautiful — Landseer's attention was called by him to the re- 
 flections, in the table, of the company, furniture, lamps, &c. 
 " Come and sit in my place and study perspective," said our 
 host, and went himself to the fire. As soon as Landseer was 
 seated in Chantrey's chair, he turned round, and imitating his 
 voice and manner, said to him, " Come young man, you think 
 yourself ornamental ; now make yourself useful, and ring the 
 bell." Chantrey did as he was desired — the butler appeared, 
 and was perfectly bewildered at hearing his master's voice, from 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 CHANTEEY. 
 
 .51 
 
 the head of the table, order more claret, while he saw him stand- 
 ing before the fire. 
 
 The only time I ever met Lord Jeffrey, was at Chantrey's. I 
 sat next to him at dinner, and found him delightful. 
 
 I also met Colonel Gurwood there. He could talk of nothing 
 but the Duke of Wellington. Speaking of the publication of his 
 Dispatches, he said, " I have unveiled a great man to the world. 
 He is the greatest creature God Almighty ever created. But 
 he don't write so well now as he did, for he thinks every thing he 
 writes will be printed, and he takes pains." 
 
 If proof were wanted of the superiority of Chantrey's mind, it 
 would be found in the fact that his most intimate associates were 
 such men as Davy and Wollaston ; and that such men delighted 
 in his conversation. He, on the other hand, delighted to learn 
 from them, for, like every artist who deserves the title of an artist, 
 he was greatly interested in all natural science. On such sub- 
 jects, I have so often heard him quote Davy and Wollaston, that 
 I feel sure nothing he heard them say was lost on him. 
 
 If Chantrey's busts possess many of the highest qualities of 
 the portraits of Reynolds, Jackson's best pictures approach them 
 the nearest in colour. 
 
 The first time I remember to have seen Jackson was in the 
 autumn of 1813, and at the British Institution, where we were 
 at the same time engaged in copying the same picture, the por- 
 trait of John Hunter, by Sir Joshua Reynolds. I knew nothing 
 then of Jackson's merits as a portrait painter, and was not dis- 
 posed to rate him highly from what I saw of his mode of proceed- 
 ing at the Institution. He seemed to me to be going on very 
 much at random, smearing asphaltum and lake over his canvass 
 in what I thought a very unartistlike manner, and I fancied my 
 copy would be much the best of the two. In short, I formed an 
 opinion of Jackson as opposite as possible to that which he really 
 deserved. I supposed him to be a conceited fellow, who affected 
 singularity not only as an artist, but as a man, for at that time he 
 wore knee breeches with brown silk stockings. Breeches were 
 then sometimes worn, but the brown stockings puzzled me. 
 
 Many years afterwards, I saw his copy of the John Hunter at 
 the house of Sir Charles Bell, and had I not been told what it 
 
52 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. III. 
 
 was, I might have mistaken it for the original. Still later in life, 
 I met with my own copy. There is certainly no danger that it 
 will ever pass for a work of Reynolds. I afterwards learned to 
 value Jackson's art as well as himself. As a man, he was most 
 amiable. It seemed scarcely possible that the serenity of his tem- 
 per could be ruffled. I saw him often, but I never saw him in an 
 ill humour under any circumstances. Though inclined to taci- 
 turnity, he had a great deal of natural drollery, and the soundness 
 of his sense may be shown by a single sentence, whether it origi- 
 nated with him or whether he quoted it. " Whatever is worth 
 doing," he said, " for the sake of example, must be worth doing 
 for its own sake." What a contrast is this to the sophistry of 
 Horace Walpole, who says, " I go to church sometimes in order 
 to induce my servants to go to church. I am no hypocrite. I 
 do not go in order to persuade them to believe what I do not 
 believe myself. A good moral sermon may instruct and benefit 
 them. I only set them an example of listening, not of believ- 
 ing." 
 
 I often spent my Sundays at Walthamstow, in the family of 
 William Dillwyn, a venerable Quaker gentleman. He was from 
 Philadelphia, and had known West before he left America ; and 
 it was from him I heard the singular story of the first meeting 
 between John West and his eldest son, who had never seen each 
 other till the latter was fifty years of age. A strict adherence to 
 the rules of his sect had not quenched the natural vivacity of Mr. 
 Dillwyn. He had known Dr. Franklin, who carried him one day 
 to the gallery of the House of Commons. As soon as they were 
 seated, the Doctor whispered to him that a gentleman, immedi- 
 ately before them, was Garrick. The great actor had a friend 
 with him, and Mr. Dillwyn overheard snatches of his conversa- 
 tion. On Garrick being asked how it was that with his abilities 
 he had never thought of getting into Parliament, he said, " I have 
 quite farce enough at my own house." 
 
 Mr. Dillwyn's son told me that his father, in his younger days, 
 was in a stage coach with a party of military officers. One of 
 them, a pert, effeminate, young dandy, undertook to quiz the plain 
 Quaker, and after some indifferent jokes, asked him at an inn 
 where they stopped, to hold his sword for a minute, supposing 
 
CHAP. III.] 
 
 DILLWYN, THE QUAKER. 
 
 53 
 
 he would consider it an abomination to touch it. Mr. Dillwyn, 
 however, eying the young man from head to foot said, " As I 
 believe from thy appearance it has never shed human blood, 
 and is not in the least likely to do so, I have not the smallest 
 objection." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Wilkie — Visit to Scotland — Visit to Abbotsford — Anecdote of Mrs. Coutts — 
 Walter Scott at Home — Visit to Edinburgh. 
 
 Lord Egremont had asked Phillips to go fifty miles into the 
 country to make a sketch of one of his grandchildren, who was 
 at the point of death. Phillips, unable to leave town, proposed 
 that I should go, and this circumstance first made me known to 
 Lord Egremont. When I reached the house of Colonel Wynd- 
 ham, the father of the little girl, she had just died. I sat up all 
 night, making sketches from her very beautiful face, and after- 
 wards painted a small picture from them. When Lord Egremont 
 asked me what he was to pay for it, I said twenty guineas. " But 
 your travelling expenses must be paid." I told him they were 
 five guineas, as I had posted to the house, and he immediately 
 wrote me a cheque for fifty. 
 
 Soon after this he desired me to paint him a picture, leaving 
 the subject and size to my own choice, and I painted " Sancho 
 Panza in the Apartment of the Duchess." A few days before 
 the picture went to the Exhibition Wilkie called on me, and, after 
 paying me some compliments, with which I was greatly delighted, 
 as coming from him, he said : " I think you may improve your 
 picture very much by giving it more depth and richness of tone. 
 Don't be afraid of glazing. The practice of our artists is running 
 too much into a light and vapid style which will, in the end, ruin 
 the art. I am trying, in my own pictures, to avoid this as much 
 as possible, and I should be glad to talk you over. I have a pic- 
 ture by Isaac Ostade, which has exactly the qualities I should 
 like to see you give to this. Can you come to Kensington this 
 afternoon and look at it, for there is no time to be lost ? " I said 
 I would gladly do so, and as Newton intended to call on him to 
 
chap, iv.] WILEIE. 55 
 
 see the pictures he was about to send to the exhibition, I would 
 ask him to go with me. " No," said Wilkie, " I would rather see 
 him at some other time ; I can talk better to one than to two." I 
 went, and saw his beautiful little picture from Allan Ramsay's 
 " Gentle Shepherd," of Jenny and Peggy dressing themselves, a 
 fine specimen of richness and depth of chiaroscuro. Indeed, but 
 for Wilkie's modesty, he might just as well have explained to me 
 all his notions of tone and effect from this picture as from the 
 Isaac Ostade. But he dwelt eloquently on the beauties of the 
 latter, and concluded by exclaiming, in a voice of despair, " Are 
 we never to see this done again ? " I might have answered, " No ; 
 but we may see something equally good though different in kind, 
 as your own pictures prove. No form of art has ever been ex- 
 actly repeated with success." But I was more disposed to listen 
 with respect to all he said than to interrupt him, even with a com- 
 pliment. I felt the distance between us as artists, and I felt 
 greatly obliged by his taking the trouble to help me where I 
 knew I wanted help. I was struck with the warmth, earnestness, 
 and animation of his manner, so unlike anything I had before 
 observed in him, and I felt convinced that he, like all first-rate 
 men, had nothing more seriously at heart than the advance of 
 every member of his profession. As well, indeed, might we ex- 
 pect to find a sincerely religious man indifferent to the advance- 
 ment of piety, as to meet with a really great artist unconcerned 
 for the general advancement of art. It would be absurd to claim 
 for my own profession any exemption from the infirmities of hu- 
 man nature, — and it must be admitted that the greatest painters, 
 and very good men among them, have not been free from jeal- 
 ousies of their contemporaries, — but, to judge from my own ex- 
 perience, I should say that bad feelings rankle most among the 
 inferior artists, where their effects, from the comparative obscurity 
 of the individuals, are least known or noticed. I remember an 
 amateur painter making a great noise in the hall of the Academy, 
 during the arrangement of an exhibition, because he had heard 
 that his picture was not well hung. Constable and I went down 
 to pacify him. He accused several of the members of jealousy, 
 and said, " I cannot but feel as I do, for painting is a passion with 
 me." " Yes," said Constable, " and a bad passion." 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IV. 
 
 While my picture of " Sancho and the Duchess " was in the 
 Exhibition, Lord Egremont called on me and asked if I had re- 
 ceived any commission for a similar picture. I told him I had 
 not, and he said : " Then paint me a companion to it, and if any- 
 body should wish to have it, let it go, and paint me another. I 
 wish to keep you employed on such subjects instead of portraits." 
 
 Soon after this I received commissions for fancy subjects from 
 Lord Essex, the Duke of Bedford, and others, and Lord Egre- 
 mont desired me to execute them and reserve the one he had 
 given me until I should be in want of employment. 
 
 In the autumn of 1824 I visited Scotland for the purpose of 
 painting a portrait of Sir Walter Scott for Mr. Ticknor of Bos- 
 ton. Newton had gone with Irving on an excursion, which he 
 afterwards extended to Scotland, and as Edwin Landseer was 
 also bound for the north, he and I left London together, in the 
 steamboat, for Edinburgh. I there found Newton, and, as I 
 learned that Sir Walter was not at Abbotsford, we agreed to 
 make a short trip to the Highlands. We passed through Glas- 
 gow, visited Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine, whence we walked 
 across the mountains to Loch Earn, to be present at an annual 
 meeting of Highlanders, under the patronage of Lord Gwydyr, 
 at which prizes were distributed to the best performers on the 
 bagpipes, the best dancers, broadswordsmen, &c. 
 
 It was a bright fresh autumnal morning when we left Loch 
 Earn head for the other end of the lake, a distance of seven 
 miles, in a large row-boat, in which, besides ourselves, were a 
 number of Highlanders — men, women, and children. As we 
 passed down the lake, the rowers amused us with stories of the 
 fairies that inhabited its shores ; these stories being matters of 
 serious belief with them. Occasionally we heard the distant 
 sound of bagpipes, and as they neared us the hills were enlivened 
 by the appearance of parties of Highlanders in full costume, each 
 headed by a piper, and all bound for the place of rendezvous. 
 This little voyage afforded us an enjoyment of the Highlands, 
 with all that is native to them, in perfection. The amusement of 
 the games which we afterwards witnessed was nothing to the 
 delight of gliding gently down the clear smooth lake with such 
 accompaniments. 
 
CHAP. IV.] 
 
 VISIT TO ABBOTSFORD. 
 
 57 
 
 We afterwards visited Stirling and Ayr ; the latter being to me 
 the most interesting spot in Scotland, associated as the town itself 
 and the scenery of its neighbourhood is with Burns. A lover of 
 Burns (and who does not love him) may imagine the feelings 
 with which we crossed the " Brigs of Ayr," listened to " the 
 drowsie donjon clock," looked up to Wallace Tower, visited the 
 cottage in which the bard was born, and Kirk Alloway, and 
 strolled by the side of the " Bonny Doon," where Burns had so 
 often strayed, composing his enchanting songs. I bathed in its 
 exquisitely clear stream. " What are those mountains ? " I asked 
 of an old man, who said he had often had a gill of whiskey with 
 Burns. They were " the Cumnock Hills." " What a delightful 
 companion Burns must have been." " Oh, not at all ; he was a 
 silly chiel ; but his brother Gilbert was quite a gentleman — like 
 you," he said, looking at Newton, whose appearance and manner 
 were remarkably good. 
 
 A Scotch gardener told me that he knew the original Tam-o'- 
 Shanter. I forget his name, but he was very proud of being 
 immortalized by Burns, though he said that part of the poem in 
 which his wife rates him for his drunkenness, was " a lee ; for 
 there never was a better-tempered woman, and she never scolded 
 me in a' her life." 
 
 From Ayr I returned direct to Edinburgh, where I left New- 
 ton, and proceeded to Abbotsford. I carried from John Murray 
 to Sir Walter a mourning ring, which had been left to him by 
 Lord Byron. 
 
 The following is a quotation from a letter I wrote from Abbots- 
 ford : " The Countess of Compton, her mother (Mrs. Clephane), 
 and her two sisters, have been here for the last three days. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Terry are here : Lady Alvanley and her two daughters 
 arrived yesterday to dinner : and late in the evening came Mrs. 
 Coutts, attended by a lady, a secretary, a doctor, and I don't 
 know how many servants. Mr. Stewart Rose is also here. This 
 list will give you some notion of the hospitalities of Abbotsford. 
 Mr. Canning is expected, but not till October, and so I shall not 
 see him. I have had three sittings from Sir Walter, and the 
 general opinion is that the portrait will be like." 
 
 During one of these sittings, there came on a thunder-storm ; 
 
58 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IV. 
 
 and as the peals followed more and more closely the flashes of 
 lightning, Scott became uneasy, and at last rose from his chair, 
 saying, " I must go to Lady Scott, she is always frightened when 
 it thunders." 
 
 It is curious that the only circumstance connected with Scott 
 and related by Lockhart, of which I was a witness, is incorrectly 
 stated in his Life of Sir Walter. Lockhart places Mrs. Coutts's 
 visit to .Abbotsford in 1825, instead of 1824; and tells us she 
 was accompanied by the Duke of St. Albans and one of his 
 grace's sisters, and by " a brace of physicians," evidently con- 
 founding this visit with one she paid to Sir Walter in Edinburgh 
 in the following year, when the Duke and one of his sisters were 
 of her party, and when she may have had two physicians, which 
 was certainly not the case when she was at Abbotsford in 1824. 
 
 But Lockhart's chief inaccuracy is in the account he gives of 
 the ill-manners of some of Scott's lady visitors towards Mrs. 
 Coutts, and the result. After saying that they contrived to mor- 
 tify her " without doing or saying anything that could expose 
 them to the charge of actual incivility," he tells us that Sir Wal- 
 ter remonstrated with the "youngest, gayest, and cleverest (a 
 lovely Marchioness)," that she took the remonstrance in good 
 part, promised better behaviour, and that she and the rest directly 
 became as civil to Mrs. Coutts as they had before been the re- 
 verse ; that Mrs. Coutts was pacified, and " stayed her three 
 days." 
 
 Now I have no doubt Sir Walter did remonstrate with the 
 beautiful Lady Compton (who was not then a Marchioness), for 
 I remember that Lady Compton was very polite to Mrs. Coutts 
 in the evening, and sat down to the piano to accompany her in a 
 song which she made an ineffectual attempt to sing, but could not 
 utter a note. Her wounded spirit, in fact, was not healed ; and 
 instead of staying " her three days," she slept at Abbotsford but 
 one night, after the night of her arrival, and went away the next 
 morning. 
 
 Stuart Newton was at Abbotsford at the time. About a year 
 afterwards he was taken by a friend to one of Mrs. Coutts's fetes 
 at Holly Lodge, and on saying that he had " had the honour of 
 meeting her at Sir Walter Scott's," she said, " Oh ! I remember, 
 
chap, iv.] ANECDOTE OF MRS. COUTTS. §9 
 
 it was when those horrible women were there. Sir Walter was 
 very kind, and did all in his power, but I could not stay in the 
 house with them." 
 
 I believe the rudeness Mrs. Coutts suffered at Abbotsford was 
 chiefly occasioned by what had occurred before she came. She 
 was expected the day before she did arrive ; the dinner hour, 
 seven o'clock, came, but not Mrs. Coutts ; at first, nobody could 
 feel aggrieved that Sir Walter would not allow dinner to be 
 served. But no doubt the ladies (two of them titled ladies) 
 thought it too much that dinner was deferred till nine o'clock, 
 and might have been longer postponed, had not a messenger ar- 
 rived from Mrs. Coutts, to say that she was delayed on the road 
 by the want of horses, and could not reach Abbotsford that night. 
 
 It was not unnatural, therefore, that ladies, by no means pre- 
 possessed in her favour, and feeling that more deference had been 
 paid her by their host than was due to anything less than Royal- 
 ty, should be somewhat out of humour with her beforehand ; and 
 though this is no excuse for their ill-breeding, it may account 
 for it. 
 
 Constable, the publisher, spent a day at Abbotsford while I 
 was there. He told Sir Walter that Meg Dodds, a name given 
 to the mistress of an inn halfway between Edinburgh and Ab- 
 botsford, and who was supposed to have furnished the original of 
 that character, said " Sir Walter had ill-obliged her by not giving 
 her notice that so great a lady as Mrs. Coutts was coming, in 
 order that she might be prepared to receive her properly. She 
 was taken by surprise, when she ought to have been informed 
 that the greatest woman in all England was on her way to visit 
 the greatest man in all Scotland ; indeed she might say Sir Walter 
 was the greatest man in the world, now Bonaparte was dead." 
 
 The following is from one of my letters : — 
 
 " I am painting in the library. When Sir Walter is seated I 
 always place a chair in the direction in which I wish him to look, 
 which is never long unoccupied by some one of his visitors, who 
 is sure to keep him in conversation. At the other end of the 
 room there is generally a group round the harp or piano. Im- 
 agine how delightful these sittings are to me. 
 
 " This morning, being Sunday, Sir Walter read the Church 
 
GO 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. IV. 
 
 Service to the whole family and his guests, in an impressive man- 
 ner." 
 
 When I began the portrait, Scott suggested that for the back- 
 ground I should take " Thomas the Rhymer's Glen," one of his 
 favourite haunts. I went with him and Mr. Rose to see it, and 
 when we came near the spot where Thomas was supposed to 
 have met the Queen of the Fairies, Sir "Walter and I dismounted 
 from our ponies, and as the descent into the glen was steep, I 
 offered to help him ; but he declined assistance, saying, he could 
 get along best in his own way ; and, indeed, he displayed more 
 activity than I could have expected, considering his lameness, 
 scrambling down the sides of the glen, often on all fours. He 
 told me that in his youth he had been an adventurous climber, 
 though no one would suppose it, as his lame leg was of scarcely 
 any use to him. 
 
 The glen was beautiful, and as he rested himself in his 
 favourite seat near a little succession of waterfalls, he said, with 
 a strong emphasis of satisfaction on the two last words, " a poor 
 thing, but mine ow?i" I told him the dimensions of my picture 
 would not admit the scene as a background, as its leading features 
 could not be brought into so small a compass. I might, however, 
 have made a sketch of it with Sir Walter in the spot he loved, 
 and my only excuse for not doing it is that Mr. Rose, who Was 
 too infirm to descend into the glen, was waiting for us above. 
 As we returned, I remember Rose saying he had never known 
 anybody who had read Voltaire's " Henriade " through. Scott 
 replied, " I have read it, and live ; but, indeed, in my youth I 
 read everything." 
 
 Sir Walter had appropriated to his friend Rose, whose in- 
 firmities were occasioned by paralysis, a sitting-room with a bed- 
 room adjoining it on the ground floor, the latticed windows of 
 which, shaded by flowers, looked into the garden. Here Rose 
 could seclude himself when he liked, and pursue a task Scott had 
 engaged him in, a translation, I think, of Ariosto. Scott thought 
 that some such easy employment of the mind would be service- 
 able to his health. The luxurious table at Abbotsford would, 
 however, have rendered Sir Walter's kind intentions useless, had 
 not Rose practised a rigid system of self-denial. 
 
CHAP. IV.] 
 
 WALTER SCOTT AT HOME. 
 
 61 
 
 When Lady Scott offered to help him to some rich delicacy, 
 he said — " No, madam, I believe in a hereafter" 
 
 Rose was able to shoot, with the assistance of his man, Hen- 
 viss, who carried his gun ; and when he went out for a morning's 
 sport, he wore a great coat without sleeves, for the better con- 
 venience of using his arms. His under-coat, differing in colour 
 from the outer one, gave him a very odd appearance, his body 
 being brown and his arms black. Henviss raised the gun to his 
 shoulder for him, and Rose said — " When I fire I never know 
 whether the birds are to fall or myself." But he generally man- 
 aged to kill them notwithstanding his lameness. Henviss was an 
 odd, half-witted fellow, and Scott said he reminded him, more 
 than any man he had ever met with, of the motley fools in 
 Shakespeare. Rose had, in fact, provided Henviss with some 
 sort of antic dress which he made him wear by way of pun- 
 ishment, when he had behaved amiss ; but Henviss took a fancy 
 to it, and would often put it on for his own gratification. He 
 wanted to wear it at Abbotsford, but to this Sir Walter objected, 
 saying — "I have no reputation for wisdom to spare in my own 
 neighbourhood, and I cannot afford to fall lower in the estimation 
 of the country-people by permitting Henviss to be seen about 
 the place in a fool's dress." Rose told many droll stories of Hen- 
 viss ; but, as he related many out of the way things of other 
 people, it was thought these stories owed quite as much to the 
 master as to the man. Lady Anna Maria Elliott, herself a wit, 
 said, after listening for some time to Rose : — 
 
 " What a great number of very odd people you have known." 
 
 " I don't know that," he replied. 
 
 " Well, then, I am very sure all Mr. Rose's acquaintance know 
 one very odd person." 
 
 During one of Sir Walter's sittings to me, the conversation 
 turned on Quakers, and he was surprised to hear that I had 
 painted the portraits of several, for he thought they objected to 
 pictures, as well as to music. He said, " They must have been 
 what are called wet Quakers." I assured him they were not, but 
 he would have it that " at least, they were damp Quakers." 
 
 Scott told me he had known a labouring man who was 
 with Burns when he turned up the mouse with his plough. 
 
62 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IV. 
 
 Burns's first impulse was to kill it, but checking himself, as his 
 eye followed the little creature, he said, " I'll make that mouse 
 immortal." He mentioned this as an instance of Burns's confi- 
 dence in his own powers. 
 
 I was much interested by seeing in the library at Abbotsford, 
 an autograph manuscript of " Tarn O'Shanter." There were, 
 either in this MS., or Scott had noted that there were in some 
 other copy, two lines that had never been printed. They oc- 
 curred after 
 
 " The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: " 
 
 and ran thus : 
 
 " The cricket join'd his chirping cry, 
 The kittling chas'd its tail wi' joy." 
 
 Scott had remarked, in a note, that Burns probably rejected them 
 from the resemblance to Goldsmith's line, — 
 
 " The cricket chirrup'd on the hearth." 
 
 He had once seen Burns, and described his eye as remarkably 
 fine ; it was dark, and seemed to dilate when he became excited. 
 I have lately met Major Burns, one of the poet's sons. I looked 
 at him with great interest, which was increased by his modest and 
 unassuming manners, in which I am sure he must have re- 
 sembled his father, whose genius was of too high an order to be 
 accompanied by any personal assumption or display. 
 
 While strolling with Sir Walter about his own grounds, a 
 pleasure I often enjoyed, he would frequently stop and point out 
 exactly that object or effect that would strike the eye of a painter. 
 He said he always liked to have a dog with him in his walks, if 
 for nothing else but to furnish a living object in the foreground of 
 the picture ; and he noticed to me, when we were among the 
 hills, how much interest was given to the scene by the occasional 
 appearance of his black greyhound, Hamlet, at unexpected 
 points. He talked of scenery as he wrote of it — like a painter ; 
 and yet for pictures, as works of art, he had little or no taste, nor 
 did he pretend to any. To him they were interesting merely as 
 representing some particular scene, person, or event ; and very 
 moderate merit in their execution contented him. There were 
 things hanging on the walls of his dining-room, which no eye 
 
CHAP. IV.] 
 
 WALTER SCOTT AT HOME. 
 
 63 
 
 possessing sensibility to what is excellent in art could have en- 
 dured. In this respect his house presented a striking con- 
 trast to that of Mr. Rogers, where nothing met the eye which 
 was not of high excellence. I am inclined to think that in 
 music also, Scott's enjoyment arose chiefly from the associations 
 called up by the air, or the words of a song. I have seen him 
 stand beside the piano or harp when Lady Compton, Miss 
 Clephane, or Mrs. Lockhart were playing Highland music, or a 
 military march, his head and whole figure slightly moving in 
 unison with the instrument, and with an expression in his face of 
 inward delight, that told, more plainly than any words could tell, 
 how thoroughly he relished the performance. He had kept a 
 piper, but this personage was dismissed before the time of which 
 I am writing : I believe for drunkenness. Sir Walter, as might 
 be supposed, was fond of the bagpipe, and contended that it 
 was really a fine instrument, independently of all national asso- 
 ciations. 
 
 His conversation was enriched with quotations, often made 
 highly humorous by their application. I remember his comparing 
 the sound of the dinner-bell, for which, he said, he had " a very 
 quick ear," to 
 
 " the sweet south, 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving odour." 
 
 There was more benevolence expressed in Scott's face than is 
 given in any portrait of him ; and I am sure there was much 
 in his heart. It showed itself in little daily acts of quiet kind- 
 ness to everybody about him. As an instance, I may mention 
 that there was a young man, educated for the Church, but as yet 
 without a curacy, living at Abbotsford. He was so deaf as to be 
 obliged to use an ear-trumpet. Sir Walter always placed him at 
 his side at dinner ; and when anything was said that he thought 
 
 would interest Mr. , he turned to him, and dropped it into 
 
 his trumpet. " Look at Scott," Newton whispered to me, " drop- 
 ping something into 's charity -box." 
 
 I asked Sir Walter where I should be likely to meet with a 
 haggis. " I don't know a more likely place than the house you 
 are in," he said; and the next day a haggis appeared on the 
 
04 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IV. 
 
 table. It was placed before him, and he greeted it with the first 
 
 lines of Burns's address to the " Chieftain of the Pudding Race." 
 
 He repeated them with great effect ; and at the words 
 
 " Weel are ye worthy of a grace 
 As lang 's my arm," 
 
 he extended his arm over the haggis. 
 
 It was curious that Mr. Leycester Adolphus's " Letter to Rich- 
 ard Hcber," so satisfactorily proving Scott to be the author of 
 the Waverley Novels, was lying on the table of the Abbotsford 
 Library at that time, when the novels were never mentioned in 
 Scott's presence. This admirable essay not only carries convic- 
 tion on the point it was written to establish, but contains the best 
 critique on Scott's prose and poetry (for an entirely favourable 
 one) ever written. 
 
 Sir Walter's old and faithful servant, Tom Purdey, is men- 
 tioned by Lockhart. I made a small whole-length sketch of Tom 
 for Sir Walter. Purdey was in bad health, and his master was 
 much grieved at the thoughts of losing him ; but Tom lived till 
 after the authorship of the novels was acknowledged. Mr. Cadell 
 told me that, as Sir Walter was leaning on Purdey's arm, in one 
 of his walks, Tom said, " Them are fine novels of yours, Sir 
 Walter ; they are just invaluable to me." " I am glad to hear it, 
 Tom." " Yes, sir, for when I have been out all day, hard at 
 work, and come home, vara tired, if I sit down with a pot of por- 
 ter by the fire, and take up one of your novels, I'm asleep di- 
 rectly." 
 
 Somebody spoke of # clubs, and Scott said, "I belong to many, 
 but I don't frequent them, for there is always a scum of bores 
 floating on the surface of club life. And yet I don't dislike a 
 good bore, for it requires a clever man to be one." 
 
 He said, " I never knew a man of genius — and I have known 
 many — who could be regular in all his habits, but I have known 
 many a blockhead who could." 
 
 Cadell told me that, in allusion to the opinion that Lord By- 
 ron's lameness was the occasion of his misanthropy, he said to 
 Scott, " Your temper has not suffered from the same misfortune," 
 and Scott replied, " When I was of the age at which lads like to 
 shine in the eyes of the girls, I have felt some envy, in a ball- 
 
CHAP. IV.] 
 
 VISIT TO EDINBURGH. 
 
 65 
 
 room, of the young fellows who had the use of their legs ; but I 
 generally found when I was beside the lasses I had the advantage 
 with my tongue." 
 
 When I left Abbotsford for Edinburgh, Scott gave me a packet 
 for Constable, which, no doubt, contained manuscript. I think he 
 was then writing the " Tales of the Crusaders." 
 
 At Edinburgh I met with much kind attention from the artists. 
 Wilkie was there, for the purpose of making studies of the Scot- 
 tish Regalia, &c, for his picture of George the Fourth entering 
 Holyrood House, and I was delighted to meet him in the capital 
 of his own country. We talked of Scott and of Burns, and he 
 remarked that it was a fine piece of art in Burns to make an ex- 
 aggerated account of Tarn O'Shanter's excesses dramatically nat- 
 ural, by putting it into the mouth of his angry wife. 
 
 At the time of which I am writing, my sister Ann was living 
 with me, and as I had the prospect of marrying I had taken a 
 small house in Lisson Grove, which had the convenience of a 
 large painting room attached to it. This had been built by the 
 owner of the house, Mr. Rossi, R.A., for Mr. Haydon, and it was 
 there Haydon painted his " Christ entering Jerusalem." 
 
 The last letter I received from my sister, while on my visit to 
 Scotland, hastened my return, as it told me she had heard that 
 our mother was dangerously ill. On arriving at my own door, 
 my sister met me in deep mourning. She had been sorrowing at 
 home, while I had been revelling in enjoyment. 
 
 My mother died on the 24th July, aged fifty-seven, at the 
 house of my brother, Captain Leslie, at West Point. My sister 
 heard this soon after I went to Scotland ; but did not acquaint me 
 with it, knowing that it would defeat the object for which I had 
 gone. 
 
 5 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Lord Holland — Lord Egremont — Anecdote of Lord Egremont — Petworth — 
 The Rev. Sidney Smith — Anecdotes of Sidney Smith — Constable, the 
 Painter — Walter Scott in London — Alfred and John Chalon. 
 
 On the 11th April, 1825, I was married ; and in the course of 
 the same year I received a visit from my third sister Mrs. Henry 
 Carey, her husband, and his sister Maria. I had not seen my 
 sister Carey for fourteen years, and was greatly struck with the 
 uncommon sweetness of her face and manner. I had not, when 
 a boy, thought her even pretty, but she now appeared to me 
 beautiful. I was perhaps by this time a better judge of beauty. 
 Her figure was slight and petite, her features not regular, and 
 her complexion dark, though very clear. But her eyes were 
 lovely, full and grey, with long black lashes ; she had beautiful 
 dimples ; and at all times an expression of so much good sense, 
 whether joyous or sad, and manners so perfectly natural and en- 
 gaging, that I thought her one of the most charming women I 
 had ever seen. She had always been a favourite with my brother 
 and myself, but I had never entirely appreciated her till, after our 
 long separation, we met again as new acquaintances. My rela- 
 tions made a short excursion in England through some of the 
 scenes my wife and I had visited on our wedding excursion ; and, 
 after a trip to Paris, they returned to America, taking my sister 
 Ann with them. 
 
 Not long before my marriage, I had been introduced to Lord 
 Holland. I painted small portraits of his lordship, of his beau- 
 tiful daughter Mary (now Lady Lilford), and of Lady Affleck 
 (Lady Holland's mother), for Lady Holland. These were all 
 painted at Holland House ; and from that time I had frequent 
 opportunities of being present at the delightful breakfast and 
 
CHAP. V.] 
 
 LOKD HOLLAND. 
 
 07 
 
 dinner parties that took place every day in that fine old mansion. 
 Among the guests whom I met there most often, were Sir James 
 Mackintosh, Mr. Richard Sharpe, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Luttrell, and 
 Mr. Thomas Moore. 
 
 Lord Holland was, without any exception, the very best tem- 
 pered man I have ever known. How much more he was than 
 merely a good-tempered man, has been, and will no doubt again 
 be, recorded by persons far better able than I am to describe him. 
 Of the grace with which he could confer a favour, the following 
 letter addressed to me, affords a specimen. It enclosed a cheque 
 for one hundred guineas for the portraits I had painted of himself 
 and of his daughter, that sum being forty guineas more than I 
 expected to receive. 
 
 " 10th June, 1829. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " When you were so good as to undertake to paint a 
 portrait of my daughter, I understood from Lord Egremont that 
 you charged only thirty guineas for works of that nature and size. 
 But after the great trouble you have taken, and the great success 
 you have had in those you have painted for me, I am really 
 ashamed of repaying such works at so low a rate ; and I hope 
 you will do me the favour of accepting the enclosed for the two 
 pictures finished and framed as you will deliver them to me. 
 The price, even in its amended shape, bears no proportion what- 
 ever to the value I annex to the works ; but it unfortunately does 
 bear a more correct one to the sum that I can with any prudence 
 devote to such objects. 
 
 " I am, Dear sir, with many thanks, 
 
 " Your obliged and obedient servant, 
 
 "Vassall Holland." 
 
 Lord Holland was fond of talking of his uncle, Charles Fox, 
 and repeating his bon mots. But Lord Holland had a wit's relish 
 for wit. When Stuart the painter died, a eulogium on his char- 
 acter appeared in one of the American papers, in which it was 
 said that he left the brightest prospects in England, and returned 
 to his own country, from his admiration of her new institutions, 
 
68 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 and a desire to paint the portrait of Washington. On hearing 
 this, Sir Thomas Lawrence said : " I knew Stuart well ; and I 
 believe the real cause of his leaving England was his having 
 become tired of the inside of some of our prisons." " Well, 
 then," said Lord Holland, " after all, it was his love of freedom 
 that took him to America." 
 
 A saying that perhaps was invented for Lady Holland, is still 
 so like her, and so good, that I will put it down. When Moore's 
 " Lalla Rookh " appeared, she is reported to have said to him : 
 " Mr. Moore, I don't intend to read your Larry O'fiourke, I don't 
 like Irish stories." She was hard to please in all kinds of stories ; 
 few people told them as well as she did. 
 
 In the autumn of 1826, Lord Egremont invited Mrs. Leslie and 
 myself to Petworth, where we spent a month. From that time 
 to the end of Lord Egremont's life, we were regularly invited to 
 Petworth, with our children, every year. Besides the picture I 
 had painted for him of " Sancho and the Duchess," I painted 
 three others of the same class,* and was engaged on a fourth at 
 the time of his death. I painted also small portraits of his daugh- 
 ters, Lady Burrell and Mrs. King. 
 
 He was the most munificent, and at the same time the least 
 ostentatious, nobleman in England. Plain spoken, often to a de- 
 gree of bluntness, he never wasted words, nor would he let others 
 waste words on him. After conferring the greatest favours, he was 
 out of the room before there was time to thank him. When he 
 first noticed me, he had almost entirely retired from London, 
 living at Petworth, and benefiting the people about him, in every 
 way in his power. 
 
 His personal habits were the most simple possible; and his 
 manner naturally shy and retiring. He might easily be mis- 
 taken, by those who knew him but slightly, for a proud person ; 
 but, as Sir William Beechey said of him, he " had more 4 put-up- 
 ability ' than almost any other man." He would bear a great 
 deal before he would take the trouble to be angry ; but when 
 angry it was to the purpose, and I have known him, in more than 
 
 * Scene from the " Taming of the Shrew;" Gulliver's introduction to the 
 Queen of Brobdignag; Charles II. at Tillietudlem Castle, from " Old Mor- 
 tality." — Ed. 
 
CHAP. V.] 
 
 LORD EGREMONT. 
 
 69 
 
 one instance, order persons to leave his house, who, encouraged 
 by his good-nature and the easy footing on which they found 
 themselves at Petworth, had forgotten where they were, and be- 
 haved as if that noble mansion were but a great hotel. 
 
 His liveries were extremely plain, and there were neither arms 
 nor coronet on any of his carriages. Wilkie was at Petworth 
 during one of our visits, and Lord Egremont took him and me, 
 one morning, to Chichester. On the way, he stopped to show us 
 Goodwood ; but the Duke and Duchess of Richmond being from 
 home, he asked for the housekeeper. The servants did not know 
 him, and we were kept waiting for a quarter of an hour in the 
 hall. Lord Egremont showed some impatience, ordered his foot- 
 man to ring the bell again, and said : " I would go away, only 
 they will think we are a parcel of thieves." He had some busi- 
 ness to transact at Chichester ; but one of his objects was to 
 show us a young girl, the daughter of an upholsterer, who was 
 devoted to painting, and considered to be a genius by her friends. 
 She was not at home ; but her mother said she could soon be 
 found, " if his lordship would have the goodness to wait a short 
 time." The young lady soon appeared, breathless and exhausted 
 with running. Lord Egremont mentioned our names, and she 
 said, looking up to Wilkie with an expression of great re- 
 spect, " Oh, sir ! it was but yesterday I had your head in my 
 hands." This puzzled him, as he did not know she was a phre- 
 nologist. 
 
 " And what bumps did you find ? " said Lord Egremont. 
 
 " The organ of veneration, very large," was her answer ; and 
 Wilkie, making her a profound bow, said : 
 
 " Madam, I have a great veneration for genius." 
 
 She showed us an unfinished picture from " The Bride of Lam- 
 mermoor." The figure of Lucy Ashton was completed, and, she 
 told us, was the portrait of a young friend of hers ; but Ravens- 
 wood was without a head, and this she explained by saying, 
 " there are no handsome men in Chichester. But," she con- 
 tinued, her countenance brightening, "the Tenth* are expected 
 here soon." 
 
 All this was uttered with an air so perfectly simple and innor 
 * A regiment noted for its handsome officers. 
 
70 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 cent, that it was the more amusing, and Lord Egremont was 
 highly diverted. 
 
 As his lordship, from that " put-up-a Jj7% " of his character 
 which Beechey noticed, seldom changed his servants, some of the 
 upper ones were as old as himself ; and these not being in livery, 
 and his own dress, in the morning, being very plain, he was some- 
 times by strangers mistaken for one of them. This happened 
 with a maid of one of his lady guests, who had not been at Pet- 
 worth before. She met him, crossing the hall, as the bell was 
 ringing for the servants' dinner, and said : " Come, old gentle- 
 man, you and I will go to dinner together, for I can't find my way 
 in this great house." He gave her his arm, and led her to the 
 room where the other maids were assembled at their table, and 
 said : " You dine here, I don't dine till seven o'clock." 
 
 He was very fond of children, and while he was dressing, his 
 grandchildren were generally brought into his room. He asked 
 for ours at the same time, and they always came away each with 
 a sugar-plum, or some other little present. 
 
 On matters of art Lord Egremont thought for himself; and his 
 remarks were worth remembering. He said to me : " I look 
 upon Raphael and Hogarth as the two greatest painters that ever 
 lived." When the picture of the "Vision of St. Jerome," by 
 Parmegiano, now in the National Gallery, was bought for a large 
 sum by the Directors of the British Institution, Lord Egremont, 
 who happened to be in London, called on me, and asked me if I 
 had a catalogue of the British Institution. " I want to see," he 
 said, " who are the men who have given so much money for that 
 broken-backed St. John. A poor way, I think, of encouraging 
 the art." 
 
 The following is one of his letters relating to a picture 
 he wished me to paint as a companion to " Sancho and the 
 Duchess : " 
 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 " You said that you would show me a design when you 
 came to. Petworth, and I wish to explain that, by a companion 
 picture, I did not mean to confine you to the story of Don Quix- 
 ote. On the contrary, I have never seen any representation of 
 
CHAP. V.] 
 
 PETWORTH. 
 
 71 
 
 the Don that satisfied me, and I believe that it is impossible to 
 represent all the absurdity and ridicule of his character, and at 
 the same time the dignity of his mind, and the grandeur of his 
 sentiments, by painting only, without the addition of language. 
 
 " Ever yours truly, &c. 
 
 " Egremont." 
 
 The kind manner in which we were invited to Petworth will 
 be seen in the following note, in answer to one which I wrote 
 declining an invitation, in consequence of our having spent as 
 much time as I could then spare from home at Brighton. My 
 letter accompanied a picture I had painted. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " The picture is quite safe, and wants nothing. I hope 
 you have some great works in hand, but whenever you feel an 
 inclination for some country air for your children, I hope you will 
 give the preference to Petworth, where you will find me at any 
 time, and always happy to see you. 
 
 " Ever truly yours, 
 
 " Egremont." 
 
 " Petworth, August Uth, 1832." 
 
 It was impossible to move many steps in the town of Petworth 
 without meeting with something to remind one of the benevolent 
 feelings of him who might be called its king. Mr. Sockett, the 
 rector, pointed out to me on a tomb this epitaph, written by Lord 
 Egremont : — 
 
 Here lieth the Body 
 of 
 
 WILLIAM ANDRE, 
 A man of the most blameless conduct, and the most inoffensive manners. To 
 his professional skill hundreds have been indebted for health and life. 
 From his hands thousands have received, by Vaccination, security against 
 that most destructive of all diseases, the small-pox. Reader, if thou art a 
 stranger, learn that these benefits were gratuitously conferred ; if thou art 
 a neighbour, remember them with gratitude, and respect his tomb. 
 He died Dec. 4, 1807, 
 Aged 64 Years. 
 
 I at this time became acquainted with Sidney Smith, through 
 
72 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 my friend Newton. His wit and humour were always unpremed- 
 itated, and seemed not so much the result of efforts to amuse, as 
 the overflowing of a mind full of imagery, instantly ready to 
 combine with whatever passed in conversation. His very exag- 
 gerations took away the sting of his most personal witticisms, and 
 I suppose no man was ever so amusing with so little offence ; for 
 those who were the subjects of his jokes were often the most ready 
 to relate them. When a discussion took place among the clergy 
 of St. Paul's, as to the expediency of surrounding the cathedral 
 with a pavement of blocks of wood, Smith said, " If the bishops 
 would lay their heads together, the thing would be done : " and 
 this was so often repeated, and with so much unction, by the 
 Bishop of London, that he was suspected of having invented it. 
 
 I happened to be in Newton's room when Mr. Smith came in 
 to sit for his portrait. He looked, in the arm chair, very like 
 Newton's picture of Abbot Boniface ; and indeed he suspected 
 Newton of taking a hint for the portly figure of the Abbot from 
 him. " I sit here," he said, " a personification of piety and absti- 
 nence." 
 
 Newton told me that at a dinner party at Lord Lyndhurst's, at 
 which he was present, the conversation turned on the custom, in 
 India, of widows burning themselves, an instance of which was 
 recent. When the subject was pretty well exhausted, Smith 
 began to defend the practice, asserting that no wife who truly 
 loved her husband could wish to survive him. 
 
 " But, if Lord Lyndhurst were to die, you would be sorry that 
 Lady Lyndhurst should burn herself." 
 
 " Lady Lyndhurst," he replied, " would no doubt, as an affec- 
 tionate wife, consider it her duty to burn herself, but it would be 
 our duty to put her out ; and, as the wife of the Lord Chancellor, 
 Lady Lyndhurst should not be put out like an ordinary widow. 
 It should be a state affair. First, a procession of the judges, and 
 then of the lawyers." 
 
 " But where, Mr. Smith, are the clergy ? " 
 
 " All gone to congratulate the new Chancellor." 
 
 At the back of Holland House, a window is distinguished from 
 all the rest by an iron grating over it. This window communi- 
 cates with Lady Holland's bedroom, and she had it grated when 
 
CHAP. V.] 
 
 THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. 
 
 73 
 
 she heard of a gentleman and his wife being murdered in their 
 bed by a servant, who entered their room through a back window. 
 Sidney Smith gave another account of this window. " Allen," he 
 said, " keeps a clergyman in confinement there, upon bread and 
 water." Mr. Allen's dislike to the clergy was no secret. 
 
 I met Sidney Smith at a dinner party at Mr. Rogers's. Sid- 
 ney's brother was there, and told us of his having been at school 
 with the Duke of Wellington, with whom he had the honour of 
 fighting, but the Duke beat him. " He began with you," said 
 Sidney, " and ended with Bonaparte." 
 
 Mr. Luttrell mentioned an Irish clergyman who was much 
 offended at being called a "pluralist" and said, " if you don't 
 take care you will find me a duelist" Smith took this up, and 
 said, " I suppose there is scarcely a clergyman in Ireland who has 
 not been out" I am told they settle these matters when the 
 afternoon's service is over. I have seen a parson's challenge : — 
 " Sir, meet me on the first Sunday after the Epiphany." 
 
 I was greatly amused with him at a large evening party at 
 Mrs. Bates's house. He had been suffering from gout, and re- 
 mained seated near the door, watching the arrivals of the guests, 
 and their reception by the hostess. " Is it possible," he said to 
 her, " that you know all these people ? " " Oh, no ! " " Well, 
 then, you do it remarkably well, for you not only seem to know 
 them all, but to love them all. Can you tell an American at first 
 sight ? I'm sure I can't." And then, observing a lady with an 
 uncommonly splendid turban on her head, he added, " I should 
 say there is a bit of U. S." — and he happened to be right. 
 
 Many things were invented for him which he never said, 
 among them the story of Landseer asking to paint him, and his 
 reply — " Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing ? " 
 
 This was in the newspapers, and Sidney Smith meeting Land- 
 seer in the Park, said : — 
 
 " Have you seen our little joke in the papers ? " 
 
 " Are you disposed to acknowledge it ? " 
 
 " I have no objection." 
 
 Soon after his pamphlet appeared against American repudia- 
 tion, my friend, Captain Morgan, arrived, and brought from New 
 York some very fine apples. I suggested to him to send a barrel 
 
74 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 to Sidney Smith, and beg his acceptance of them as his share of 
 the American debt. Morgan received two notes in reply. The 
 first is published, and the second ran thus — 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 When I told my company that your apples came from 
 a solvent State, they were eaten with great applause." 
 
 He enclosed his poetical receipt for a salad. 
 
 Sidney Smith, after travelling for some hours in a stage coach 
 with one other passenger only, a lady, said, as he was about to 
 leave the coach : 
 
 " We have been some time together, and I dare say you think 
 me a very odd fellow, and would like to know who I am." 
 
 " Indeed, sir, I should." 
 
 " Well then, madam," he said, as the coach stopped, and he 
 was getting out, " I must inform you that I am the stout gentle- 
 man who was seen by Mr. Washington Irving's nervous friend." 
 
 Mr. Rogers told me that Smith received invitations to dine with 
 Whitbread and with some peer at the same time. He accepted 
 Whitbread's, and wrote to the peer that he " was engaged to dine 
 with the great fermentator in Chi swell Street." But, putting his 
 answers into the wrong covers, his excuse to the peer went to the 
 brewer, and Lady Elizabeth Whitbread replied, " The great fer- 
 mentator is much obliged to Mr. Smith for giving him the prefer- 
 ence." He answered, " I have received your ladyship's note, and 
 kill myself on the spot." 
 
 Edwin Landseer said to him : " With your love of humour, it 
 must be a great act of self-denial to abstain the theatres." 
 
 " The managers," he repjied, " are very polite ; they send me 
 free admissions, which I can't use ; and, in return, I send them 
 free admissions to St. Paul's." 
 
 Like Sterne's Yorick, Sidney Smith has been thought to in- 
 dulge too much in a levity unbecoming a clergyman, and by some 
 people the sincerity of his faith has been, like Yorick's, doubted. 
 It is true he assumed no outward garb of sanctity ; and if to be a 
 Christian, it be necessary to be a Methodist, he was not one. But 
 those who knew him most intimately, speak of him as not neg- 
 
chap, v.] ANECDOTES OF SIDNEY SMITH. 75 
 
 lecting any of his serious duties ; and Lady Bell, who soon after 
 the death of her husband passed some time with his family at his 
 living, spoke in the highest terms of his active benevolence among 
 his parishioners. It must be remembered, also, how constantly 
 his wit was employed against enormous abuses, and particularly 
 in the Church ; how constantly he raised his voice in behalf of 
 the poor and hard-working clergy. 
 
 A friend of mine, who had opportunities of knowing him well, 
 characterised him as " the greatest disperser of humbug that ever 
 lived" 
 
 I had heard, and with great admiration, Sidney Smith preach, 
 many years before the time of which I am writing. I thought 
 him the best preacher I ever heard, and I know of no better ser- 
 mons than those he has published. 
 
 There are passages in them tinged with the wit which made 
 him so delightful a companion out of the pulpit, but this does not 
 in the least impair their seriousness. He seems to me, in these 
 discourses, to be at all times equally earnest, eloquent, and sound 
 in the view he takes of his subject, and the more I read them the 
 more I find them to contain. 
 
 He carried the natural cheerfulness of his mind into his relig- 
 ion. I remember, the first time I heard him preach, — and be- 
 fore I knew anything else of him than that he was an admirable 
 preacher, — he strongly objected to melancholy views of religion. 
 He said with great emphasis, " I want you to enjoy your relig- 
 ion." 
 
 Among my brother artists, the two with whom I was the most 
 intimately associated, at the time of which I am writing, were 
 Newton and Constable ; but Newton lived so much in society, and 
 .in that respect his habits were so different from my own, that I 
 found myself less with him than with Constable. 
 
 Of all the painters I have known — and I have been intimate 
 with all the most eminent of my time — Constable was to me the 
 most interesting, both as a man and an artist. I have been told 
 that my great admiration of his pictures arose out of my personal 
 acquaintance with him ; but the reverse was really the case ; my 
 acquaintance with him arose out of my admiration of his pictures. 
 I cultivated his friendship because I liked his art. There are 
 
76 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 many estimable men, artists, for whom I have the greatest regard, 
 but of whose works that regard cannot make me an admirer. 
 
 A lively Quaker lady, a daughter of my excellent friend, Mr. 
 Dillwyn, considered the world as composed of two classes — 
 " those who have souls, and those who have none ; " and wherever 
 she may have drawn the line of separation, I am sure, could she 
 have known Constable as I did, she would have admitted him into 
 the first of these classes. He was not without a body either, and 
 one of genuine flesh and blood, but he put his soul into his art. 
 When he said he " thanked Heaven he had no imagination," he 
 meant only that his imagination did not lead him into what he 
 called " the vacant fields of idealism." Nobody knew better than 
 Constable that without imagination there could be no true art. 
 His manner of expressing himself, in this instance, must, there- 
 fore, be taken in reference to what he saw in the works of many 
 of his contemporaries, who, because they could not imitate nature 
 (the most difficult of all things), pretended to do something bet- 
 ter, — that is, to produce works of imagination. 
 
 I will say thus much for myself, that I always preferred to 
 associate as much as I could with my superiors. This was 
 another reason for my cultivating the friendship of Constable, 
 and I never felt more happy than when I found he gave it me. 
 He had not a very large circle of friends ; but his friends, like 
 the admirers of his pictures, compensated for their fewness by 
 their sincerity and their warmth. 
 
 The impression his character made, and the impression his art 
 made, and I may say the impression they did not make, were 
 proofs to me of the truth of Koscoe's remark, that " genius as- 
 similates not with the character of the age." No man more 
 earnestly desired to stand well with the world ; no artist was 
 more solicitous of popularity. He had, as the phrenologists 
 would say, the love of approbation very strongly developed. But 
 he could not conceal his opinions of himself and of others ; and 
 what he said had too much point not to be repeated, and too 
 much truth not to give offence. It is not, then, to be wondered 
 at, that some of his competitors hated him, and most were afraid 
 of him. There was also that about him which led all who had 
 not known him well and long; to consider him an odd fellow, and 
 
chap, v.] WALTER SCOTT IN LONDON. 
 
 77 
 
 a great egotist ; and an egotist he was ; but then, if the expres- 
 sion may be allowed, he was not a selfish egotist. " By self he 
 often meant," as Charles Lamb says of the poet Wither, " a 
 great deal more than self — his friends, his principles, his country, 
 the human race." Few, however, knew or studied him suffi- 
 ciently to perceive this. He was opposed to all cant in art, to all 
 that is merely specious and fashionable, and to all that is false in 
 taste. He followed, and for his future fame he was right in fol- 
 lowing, bis own feelings in the choice of subject and the mode of 
 treatment. With great appearance of docility, he was an uncon- 
 trollable man. He said of himself, " If I were bound with chains 
 I should break them, and with a single hair round me I should 
 feel uncomfortable." I always felt inclined to say to him, " Do 
 all that it is in thine heart to do ; " and I was happy that to me 
 he said all that it was in his heart to say. Turner was a very 
 different man from Constable, and yet quite like him in one 
 respect, namely, his entire reliance on a guide within himself — 
 always a characteristic of genius. But Constable could not help 
 talking of his feelings, of his views of art, &c. He talked well, 
 and this made him extremely interesting to those who could feel 
 with him, but either tiresome or repulsive to those who could not. 
 Turner did not talk well, and never talked of his own art, or of 
 the art of others. To me, therefore, he was far less interesting 
 than his pictures, but, at the same time, his prudence prevented 
 his giving offence. It was impossible, however, not to like 
 Turner, there was something so social and cordial in his nature. 
 I believe him to have had an excellent heart. 
 
 In the spring of 1828 Sir Walter Scott was in London, and I 
 had the pleasure of meeting him at the house of Mr. Rogers, 
 where were also Sir James Mackintosh, Lord John Russell, Mr. 
 Richard Sharpe, Fennimore Cooper, Chantrey, Mrs. Siddons, 
 Miss Fanshawe, and Miss Rogers — such an assembly as I can 
 never hope to meet again. 
 
 Daring this visit to London, Sir Walter was present at the 
 anniversary dinner at the Royal Academy as a member, having 
 been elected antiquary to the Academy the year before. After 
 the usual toasts, Sir Thomas Lawrence said : " Before we part, I 
 have to propose the health of one with whose presence we are 
 
78 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. v. 
 
 honoured, and of whom it may well be said, in the words of the 
 poet he most resembles, — 
 
 " If he had been forgotten, 
 It had been as a gap in our great feast, 
 And all things unbecoming." 
 
 The enthusiasm with which the toast was received exceeded 
 anything of the kind I ever witnessed, and when Scott rose to 
 reply, the applause, for some time, prevented his speaking. As 
 soon as he could be heard, he said : " Mr. President, — When 
 you acquainted me with the honour the Royal Academy had done 
 me by including me among its members, you led me to believe 
 that the place would be a sinecure. But I now find that I then 
 reckoned without my host, for on my first appearance here, as a 
 member, I am called on to perform one of the most arduous of 
 duties, that of making a speech." He then, in a few words, re- 
 turned thanks. This was the last time I ever saw him. 
 
 Of the many portraits of him Chantrey's bust is, to my mind, 
 the most perfect. Lawrence gave him a pomposity of manner 
 which he never assumed ; but in Chantrey's bust, the gentle turn 
 of the head, inclined a little forwards and down, and the lurking 
 humour in the eye and about the mouth, are Scott's own. Chan- 
 trey watched Sir Walter in company, and invited him to break- 
 fast previous to the sittings, and by these means caught the 
 expression that was most characteristic. The first bust was a 
 commission from Scott, and when breakfasting with Chantrey, he 
 said : " You and I reverse the case supposed in Scripture, for I 
 have asked you for a stone, and you give me bread." 
 
 On the 7th January, 1830, Sir Thomas Lawrence died sud- 
 denly. An eminent surgeon told me he believed that he was 
 bled and physicked to death — not an uncommon occurrence in 
 those good old times. The Royal Academy had now to choose a 
 President, and the election took place on the 25th, when Mr. 
 Shee had eighteen votes, Sir William Beech ey six, Wilkie two, 
 Phillips one, and Calcott one. Allan Cunningham, in his " Life 
 of Wilkie," has made a mistake in saying he had but one vote, 
 that of Collins. I also voted for him, for I considered that he 
 united more requisites for the high office than any other man in 
 
CHAP. V.] 
 
 ALFRED AND JOHN CHALON. 
 
 70 
 
 the Academy. But Sir Martin Shee made so incomparable a 
 President, that I am glad the majority did not think as Collins 
 and I did at the time of the election. 
 
 I should have mentioned that, in 1828, I joined a small society 
 of artists that had then been established for twenty years. Its 
 meetings are held weekly, on Friday nights, during the months 
 of November, December, January, February, March, and April. 
 The members assemble, at six o'clock, at each other's houses in 
 rotation. All the materials for drawing are prepared by the host 
 of the evening, who is, for that night, President. He gives a sub- 
 ject, from which each makes a design. The sketching concludes 
 at ten o'clock, then there is supper, and after that the drawings 
 are reviewed, and remain the property of him at whose house 
 they are made. 
 
 I had been acquainted with Alfred and John Chalon for many 
 years before joining this society, but I was now brought into a 
 closer intimacy with them — an intimacy that I count among the 
 best things of my life. 
 
 These pleasant evenings also enabled me to appreciate the 
 delightful social qualities of Stanfield, whose friendship from that 
 time I have been so fortunate as to possess ; and, though indif- 
 ferent health and the distance at which I live from most of the 
 members, led me, in 1842, to withdraw from the society, I am 
 still admitted to its meetings, as an honorary member, when I 
 can attend them. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Appointment in America — Letter of Lord Egremont — Arrival in New York 
 — Sojourn at West Point — Return to England — Samuel Rogers and 
 Stotliard — Anecdotes of Stothard — Old Lady Cork — Newton, the 
 Painter. 
 
 In the year 1833 my brother, without consulting me (indeed 
 there was no time), obtained for me the appointment of teacher 
 of drawing at the Military Academy at West Point, on the Hud- 
 son River ; and he and my sisters, as well as others of my friends 
 in America, strongly urged me to accept it. 
 
 The inducements they held out were, that it would give me a 
 fixed income for life, that I should have the greater part of my 
 time to myself, being obliged to attend the school only for two 
 hours, on five days in the week ; that I should be enabled to pro- 
 cure an excellent education for my sons at the Academy, free of 
 expense ; that the situation was a very healthy and beautiful one, 
 and that in America the opportunities of settling my children for 
 life were better than in England ; that I should have a conven- 
 ient house to live in, to which a commodious painting-room 
 would (no doubt) be added at the expense of Government ; and 
 that I should be once more among my relations and early friends. 
 They represented to me that I could form no notion of the great 
 improvements in all respects that had taken place in America 
 since I had left it ; that at least the experiment was worth a trial ; 
 and that if I did not like the change, I could return to England, 
 having had an opportunity of visiting my relations at a less ex- 
 pense of time and money than would be possible under other cir- 
 cumstances. It was recommended to me that I should go alone, 
 and, if I determined to remain, my wife and children should fol- 
 low me. 
 
 After a long and very harassing consideration of the matter, 
 
chap, vi.] LETTER OF LORD EGREMONT. 81 
 
 and after consulting those of my friends on whose judgment I 
 placed the greatest reliance, I resolved to accept the situation, 
 and my wife, great as the sacrifice was to her, determined to go 
 with me, though her own relations, and particularly her brother, 
 did not think very favourably of the scheme. 
 
 I had not consulted Lord Egremont on this important subject, 
 as I ought to have done. But the distance his high rank created 
 between us made it seem to me that it would be taking too great 
 a liberty. I might have known him better ; for after I had made 
 up my mind and written to my brother on the subject, I received 
 the following letter : — 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " It is a long time since I have had the pleasure of see- 
 ing Mrs. Leslie and you, and as I may probably never go so far 
 as London again, I have no chance of it unless you will come 
 here at any time of the summer that may suit you, and I shall 
 be very happy to receive you at any time. It seems to me that 
 you have but one picture in your own style in the Exhibition, 
 and the others are a scripture subject and a portrait. 
 
 " Ever truly yours, &c, 
 
 " Egremont." 
 
 " Petworth, June 10th, 1833." 
 
 In my reply to this kind letter, I acquainted Lord Egremont 
 with my intention of visiting America, and this brought me an- 
 other letter, which I really think, had I received it while my 
 mind was wavering, would have kept me in England. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " It is but a groundless regret at my age, when the 
 course of nature will probably settle the point without any act of 
 yours or mine ; but I cannot help regretting that your promised 
 visit to Petworth will probably be the last time that I shall have 
 the pleasure of seeing you. But I cannot disguise to myself 
 that in the irritated state of feeling in this country,* in the midst 
 
 * In the present quiet state of things (in 1844), it would be difficult for those 
 who do not remember the excitement produced by the state of political parties 
 6 
 
82 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. VI. 
 
 of the greatest wealth and prosperity, if we had but the good 
 sense and good temper to make the best of it, and enjoy it, even 
 if it should subside without any fatal effects, the prospect is any- 
 thing but encouraging ; and I believe it is the condition of hu- 
 man nature, that almost every great improvement in society is 
 counterbalanced by some evil arising from it, which is not 
 thought of till it happens, and so now the great diffusion of wealth 
 and health, and comfort and education, produces a much greater 
 number of young persons seeking situations adapted to their cul- 
 tivated habits and manners, than there are situations to employ 
 them. 
 
 " On the other hand, the situation to which you are going, at a 
 considerable distance from the society of the metropolis, and with 
 two or three hundred troublesome boys under your care, does not 
 seem to me to be a very agreeable one." 
 
 After some very kind expressions intimating his fear that I was 
 about to leave England on account of want of employment, Lord 
 Egremont thus concludes : 
 
 " I can only say that I will gladly give a thousand pounds for a 
 companion picture to Sancho and the Duchess. 
 
 " Yours ever truly, &c, 
 
 " Egremont." 
 
 " Petworth, June 2<tth, 1833." 
 
 This letter made me almost feel as if I were about to commit 
 an act of ingratitude in leaving a country where greater patronage 
 had been, and was still, extended towards me than was, in many 
 instances, bestowed on my superiors in art. In reply, I explained 
 to Lord Egremont that I was not leaving England for want of 
 employment. With regard to his noble offer of one thousand 
 pounds for a companion picture to " Sancho and the Duchess," 
 I told him I should be guilty of a robbery were I to receive 
 such a sum for such a picture ; that I should be most happy 
 to paint him one of that size in America ; but that it must be 
 
 on the subject of Eeform in 1833, to conceive of the consternation that pre- 
 vailed throughout the country. 
 
CHAP. VI.] 
 
 ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. 
 
 8:3 
 
 on the condition that its price should not exceed five hundred 
 guineas. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie and I paid our last visit, as we thought, to Pet- 
 worth, and on our taking leave of Lord Egremont, all he said 
 was, " I am very sorry for this." The day after our return to 
 town, I received a letter, which had followed me to Petworth, 
 enclosed in the following : 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " I take the opportunity of this letter to write a line, and 
 to assure you, that although I could say but little at the time, 
 there are very few things which could give me greater pain than 
 pronouncing the last farewell to you and Mrs. Leslie. I heartily 
 wish you success, but if you are to be disappointed, I hope it may 
 be soon, that I may have a chance of seeing you again, which will 
 not admit of much delay. 
 
 " Ever truly yours, &c, 
 
 " Egremont." 
 
 " Petworth, September 8th, 1833. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, I had so little expectation of returning 
 to England, that I considered it my duty to resign my Academic 
 diploma, and on this subject I consulted Sir Martin Shee, who 
 told me he thought such a step by no means imperative, even if 
 I were certain of remaining in America, but that at any rate it 
 was quite unnecessary to take it now. , 
 
 We sailed from London on the 21st September, in the ship 
 Philadelphia, Captain Morgan, and after a favourable passage 
 of five weeks arrived at New York. Our little Mary was at 
 that time but two months old, and her mother was fortunately 
 able to nurse her during the whole of the passage. 
 
 My brother came to New York to receive us on the morning 
 after our arrival ; but before going to West Point, we paid a 
 visit to my sisters in Philadelphia. Nothing was omitted on the 
 part of my relations and friends to make us as happy and com- 
 fortable as possible ; but still, on returning to the scenes of my 
 boyhood, after so long an absence, I felt like a stranger. I met 
 some of my old school-fellows, but my lively playmates had now 
 
84 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap VI. 
 
 become grave plodding men of business, and we could never be 
 to each other as in the days of our youth. This I might have 
 foreseen, and also that it would be a long time before I could 
 make a new home of my old home. At West Point, I was de- 
 lighted with the beautiful scenery, though the trees, when we 
 arrived, were nearly bare of foliage. My brother saved me 
 almost all trouble in furnishing and fitting up our house ; which 
 I found, however, less commodious than the one I had left in 
 London. For my painting-room, I had only a small attic, but I 
 was assured a convenient one should be built. 
 
 I soon found that the school occupied much more of my time than 
 I had expected. Saturday, it is true, was a holiday to the cadets, 
 but it was less so to me than any other day in the week, for I had 
 on that day to make a report of the conduct of my pupils. If, in 
 this report, I censured any for misbehaviour, they appealed, and 
 I was obliged on the Monday to answer their appeals. When 
 the examination, at the close of the year took place, I was obliged 
 to attend with the other teachers and the professors from eight 
 o'clock in the morning until four in the afternoon, for two or three 
 weeks ; and I was told I should be subject to the same attendance 
 at the Midsummer examination ; but of this I had not been in- 
 formed before I accepted the appointment. 
 
 In the course of the winter my wife suffered a more severe ill- 
 ness than she had ever before experienced, and I began to doubt 
 whether the climate of West Point was so healthy as my brother 
 considered it. I found that where there was any predisposi- 
 tion to consumption in any of the cadets, it soon became neces- 
 sary to remove them, and those who were removed never 
 returned.* 
 
 Colonel de Russey, the Superintendent, was very desirous 
 that the promised painting-room should be built, and assured 
 me it should be done as soon as the season would permit. He 
 had a plan drawn for it, and submitted to the Secretary of 
 War at Washington, but without success. There existed, at 
 that time, a party in Congress opposed to the very existence of 
 
 * My brother, who was educated at West Point, and had become so much 
 attached to it as to wish to pass his life there, has since left it, being obliged to 
 remove with his family to New York on account of his wife's health. 
 
CHAP. VI.] 
 
 SOJOURN AT WEST POINT. 
 
 80 
 
 the West Point Academy ; and that party was just then 
 making a strong effort to destroy it. This effort failed ; but 
 it was so far unlucky for me, that it prevented an application 
 to Congress for the money necessary to build my room. 
 
 I did not find that the expense of living in America was 
 likely to be so much less than in England as I had been led 
 to suppose. All articles of clothing were greatly dearer, and 
 dress is a serious item in a large family. 
 
 One hope which had weighed very much with me when I 
 accepted the situation, was that I should find less difficulty in 
 settling my children for life in America than in England ; but 
 from what I heard during my sojourn at West Point, I was 
 inclined to doubt this. Our reasoning is generally on the side 
 of our inclinations ; and so entirely did I now feel that Eng- 
 land had become my home — so anxious was I to be again 
 among my brother artists (the best in the world) — that had 
 prudential reasons weighed more strongly than they seemed 
 to do on the side of« my remaining in America, I should 
 probably have disregarded them. I felt assured also that I 
 should make my wife happy by returning ; and Lord Egre- 
 mont's letter had its due weight in determining me to go 
 back. 
 
 So much was I occupied in arranging matters for my de- 
 parture, that I had not time to revisit Philadelphia ; but my 
 sister, Mrs. Carey, and her husband, paid us a visit. 
 
 We sailed for England on the 14th of April, 1834, with 
 our good friend, Captain Morgan, who gave us the same berths 
 in his fine ship we had occupied on our passage out ; and 
 when my wife found herself on board the Philadelphia, she 
 said, " Now I feel at home again." After being a week at 
 sea, the wind became westerly ; and from that time our course 
 continued in one direct line to Portsmouth, which we reached 
 in twenty days from New York. When we left West Point 
 not a leaf was out, and the landscape still bore the appear- 
 ance of winter ; but on our arrival in England, the country 
 was clothed with foliage and blossom ; and this, apparently, 
 abrupt transition from winter to summer was very striking. 
 The first land we saw closely was the Isle of Wight, in its 
 
86 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. vi. 
 
 greatest beauty, for we passed between the Needle Rocks and 
 the main land. These circumstances, and the delightful weath- 
 er, increased our joy at finding ourselves again in England, 
 from which I have felt, from that moment, no inclination to 
 estrange myself. 
 
 Soon after my return I visited Lord Egremont. He was 
 then in his eighty-second year. A few days before my ar- 
 rival he had given a dinner in the park to 4000 poor women 
 and children, and marks were on the grass, made by the 
 tables, of which there could not have been less than 100, rang- 
 ed in a triple semicircle opposite the house. At that time 
 the direct entrance to the house was closed, in consequence of 
 the illness of the porter and his wife, who were both dying of 
 old age. As they lived at the lodge, Lord Egremont would 
 not allow them to be disturbed, neither would he have them 
 removed. Had I not learned all this from the stage-coachman, 
 I should have been greatly astonished to find " No Admittance " 
 posted upon any gate leading to his residence. 
 
 The guests I found at Petworth consisted entirely of poor 
 relations and poor friends ; indeed, all that I noticed strongly 
 illustrated the character of its benevolent master. 
 
 I made this visit alone, as my wife could not leave town, in 
 consequence of the children having brought the whooping-cough 
 from West Point \ but in two months we were all at Petworth 
 together ; and on this occasion it happened, very pleasantly to 
 me, that Constable was one of Lord Egremont's guests. 
 
 In the early part of 1834, Stothard was released, at an ad- 
 vanced age, from a world in which his gentle nature had met 
 with an unusual share of domestic affliction, and but little just 
 appreciation of his lovely art. 
 
 Every great painter carries us into a world of his own, where, if 
 we give ourselves up to his guidance, we shall find much enjoy 
 ment ; but if we cavil at every step, we may be sure there is a 
 greater fault in ourselves than any we discover in him. I have 
 known people who, I have fancied, would not be quite satisfied 
 with heaven itself, if they should ever come there ; fault-finders, 
 insensible to beauty, and, nine times in ten, finders of imagi- 
 nary faults only. For such people Stothard did not paint. But 
 
chap, vi.] SAM. ROGERS AND STOTHARD. 
 
 87 
 
 he did paint for all who can feel and see what is best and most 
 beautiful in this world, and who long for something still better 
 than the present condition of humanity. 
 
 Few could feel this longing more intensely than he did, and 
 this feeling made his art what it was. 
 
 Mr. Rogers was always his warm admirer and steady friend ; 
 and among artists he was admired by all whose admiration was 
 of value. Flaxman sought his acquaintance early in life, from 
 seeing one of his designs for " The Novelist's Magazine " in a 
 shop window. He procured him the commission to paint the 
 Burleigh staircase, and every year, on his wife's birth-day, he 
 presented her with a small picture by Stothard. Lawrence, 
 Constable, Wilkie, and Chantrey were his great admirers ; and 
 Turner proved the sincerity of his admiration by painting a pic- 
 ture in avowed imitation of him. While retouching it in the 
 Academy, Turner said to me, " If I thought he liked my pictures 
 half as well as I like his, I should be satisfied. He is the Giotto 
 of England." 
 
 On the other hand, the aristocracy knew little and cared less 
 for him. Sir George Beaumont was loud in his condemnation ; 
 and when the great Duke was showing the Wellington shield to 
 some friends, and was asked who designed it, he said, " Ward and 
 Green." Mr. Rogers (who told me this) interposed " Stothard ; " 
 and the Duke said, " Ah, yes, Stoddart " — not even giving him 
 his right name. 
 
 For some years before his death I had the happiness of being 
 intimate with him, and often spent evenings at his house, looking 
 over his sketch-books. They were filled with every variety of 
 subject ; landscape, architecture, groups of figures and flowers, all 
 drawn with exquisite taste. On my asking the name of a flower, 
 which struck me as peculiarly elegant, he said, " A weed, sir ; I 
 have a great respect for weeds." Many of his sketches were 
 made from the windows of inns where he had halted while trav- 
 elling ; and to judge from the materials which filled his books, he 
 did not appear to have ever gone in search of the picturesque, 
 but to have sketched whatever his leisure permitted, and chance 
 presented to him. 
 
 I was often surprised by seeing the most ordinary objects and 
 
88 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VI. 
 
 personages, such as an inferior artist would not think worth his 
 notice, rendered interesting by the hand and eye of this great 
 master. Chantrey told me that soon after the peace with France, 
 Stothard and he visited Paris together. On leaving Calais, Stot- 
 hard tied his pencil to his finger, and began to sketch as well as 
 the motion of the carriage permitted him. He was very quick in 
 noting down, in two or three lines, the general forms of objects, 
 and after sketching rapidly every single apple tree of a long line 
 which bordered the road from Amiens, he said, " Now, sir, I 
 shall remember the character of an apple tree as long as I live." 
 Among his sketches he showed me some early drawings from the 
 antique, made while he was a student of the Academy. They 
 were begun and finished with pen and ink only, and looked like 
 beautiful line engravings. He said, " I adopted this plan, because, 
 as I could not alter a line, it obliged me to think before I touched 
 the paper." To this practice he, no doubt, owed that certainty of 
 hand which is a beauty in all his works. 
 
 Stothard told me that when a lad, he and another youth spent 
 a summer on the banks of the Medway, in a hut which they built 
 in imitation of Robinson Crusoe's dwelling. They purchased a 
 small boat, and amused themselves with sailing when the weather 
 permitted it. This anecdote gives an additional interest to his 
 illustrations of Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 He said to Constable that when he was engaged in making 
 drawings for " The Novelist's Magazine," he walked the streets 
 for his subjects. 
 
 I believe that during the whole of his life, the time not passed 
 in his studio was, for the most part, spent in long walks ; in the 
 winter through the streets of London, and in the summer through 
 the fields. 
 
 Though his deafness disabled him from enjoying society, ex- 
 cept that of a single friend at a time, his disposition was social. 
 He never missed attending the meetings of the Royal Academy, 
 though he could catch nothing of the discussions that took place, 
 except as far as some friend would explain them. I have often 
 walked home with him from these meetings, and the first ques- 
 tion he would ask me was, "What have we been doing to- 
 night?" 
 
CHAP. VI.] 
 
 ANECDOTES OF STOTHARD. 
 
 89 
 
 Full as his countless work are of exquisite sentiment, I never 
 heard him use the word sentiment in his life. I spoke to him 
 one day of his touching picture of a sailor taking leave of his 
 wife or sweetheart, and he said, " I am glad you like it, sir ; it 
 was painted with japanner's gold size." 
 
 Though utterly careless of dress, Stothard always looked like 
 a gentleman, and as he grew old, his appearance became very 
 venerable ; his head, or rather the expression of his face, re- 
 sembling the antique in the British Museum called Homer. 
 
 As he heard little that passed in conversation, he said little ; 
 but that little was always well said. When an eminent painter 
 of the four-legged creation, presented to the Academy, on his 
 election, a picture of two little naked, bilious, dirty-looking boys, 
 intended for Bacchanals, a member regretted that he had not 
 sent " s6me of his pigs." Stothard said, " I think he has." 
 
 I was amused with an account Constable gave me of a walk 
 he took with him in 1824, from London to Coombe Wood, where 
 they dined by the side of a spring. They set out early in the 
 day, provided with some sandwiches for their dinner. Before 
 they reached the wood, Stothard, seeing Constable eating a sand- 
 wich, called him " a young traveller," for breaking in on their store 
 so early. When they got to the spring, they found the water 
 low and difficult to reach ; but Constable took from his pocket a 
 tin cup, which he had bought at Putney unnoticed by Stothard. 
 The day was hot, and the water intensely cold ; and Stothard 
 said, " Hold it in your mouth, sir, some time before you swallow 
 it. A little brandy or rum now would be invaluable." " And 
 you shall have some, sir, if you will retract what you said of my 
 being a ' young traveller ; ' I have brought a bottle of rum from 
 town, a thing you never thought of : " for though Constable car- 
 ried their fare, Stothard was the caterer. 
 
 As they lay on the grass, enjoying their meal under the trees 
 that screened them from a midsummer's sun, Stothard, looking up 
 to the splendid colour of the foliage over their heads, said, 
 " That's all glazing, sir." I am not afraid that these anecdotes 
 will be thought trifling. The sandwiches and the rum are ordi- 
 nary things, but they serve to show the frugal habits of two re- 
 markable men, who were enjoying the beauties of nature with a 
 
90 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VI. 
 
 relish of which the most refined voluptuary cannot form a distant 
 conception. I have heard that Stothard, hardy and thrifty, never 
 got into a hackney coach in his life, and never wore a great coat. 
 He was, as I have said, a daily walker, and Constable was the 
 chosen companion of his walks. Stothard, indeed, fully appre- 
 ciated the originality of Constable's mind, and well knew that he 
 was a friend on whom he could rely to the utmost. 
 
 I witnessed at the Academy a trifling proof of the respect felt 
 for Stothard by his colleagues. He was at one of the meetings 
 which take place on every 1st of December to ballot for the 
 prizes to the students. This is always held in the day-time, and 
 in the largest of the exhibition rooms, which, at Somerset House, 
 there were no means of warming. Sir Thomas Lawrence put- 
 ting on his hat begged us all to do the same ; but Stothard, who 
 had left his in the ante-room, did not hear him. " Which of you, 
 gentlemen," said Lawrence, "will bring Mr. Stothard's hat?" 
 There was a general rush to the door, and Shee, who ran the 
 quickest, brought it to the old gentleman before he knew what 
 the bustle meant. 
 
 I doubt whether there exists an entire collection of the thou- 
 sands of engravings of Stothard's lovely conceptions, though 
 there are many large ones ; and in looking over these, the im- 
 pression is, that the life of a man of such a mind as they display 
 could not have been an unhappy one — nor was it ; notwithstand- 
 ing a series of domestic afflictions of such weight as would have 
 crushed most men ; and these trials were continued to the close of 
 his life. Constable, in a letter to a friend, written in 1833, says, 
 " I passed an hour or two with Mr. Stothard on Sunday evening. 
 Poor man ! the only Elysium he has in this world he finds in his 
 own enchanting works. His daughter does all in her power to 
 make him happy and comfortable." 
 
 He must have possessed great constitutional serenity of mind, 
 and he was also, no doubt, much supported by his art. His 
 easel, indeed, bore evidence of the many years he had passed be- 
 fore it; the lower bar, on which his foot rested, being nearly 
 worn through. 
 
 What a contrast does such a man offer, preserving his cheerful- 
 ness through a long and troubled life — a life throughout which 
 
CHAP. VI.] 
 
 OLD LADY CORK. 
 
 91 
 
 his great merits were very imperfectly appreciated — to the 
 many, who, 
 
 " When no real ills perplex them, 
 Can make enough themselves to vex them." 
 
 On my return from America, I commenced writing a diary, 
 which I continued for two or three years. The following account 
 of Lady Cork (the Hon. Miss Moncton mentioned in Boswell's 
 Life of Johnson) is from it : 
 
 " Sunday, June 1st, 1834. My wife and I dined with Miss 
 Rogers. Met Mr. S. Rogers, Lady Cork, the Ladies Jane and 
 Fanny Harley, and Mr. Wilkinson.* Lady Cork very old, in- 
 firm, and diminutive ; dressed all in white, with a white bonnet, 
 which she wore at the table. No doubt she had been pretty in 
 her youth. Her features are delicate and her skin fair, and not- 
 withstanding her great age, she is very animated. She was at- 
 tended by a boy page, in a fantastical green livery, with a cap and 
 a high plume of black feathers. Mr. Rogers asked her about 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, whom she knew very well, and who had 
 painted a whole length portrait of her. She told us nothing of 
 him, except that he was a very pleasant man. The truth is, the 
 old lady, who was a lion-hunter in her youth, is as much one now 
 as ever, and was wholly taken up with Mr. Wilkinson, who, Mr. 
 Rogers told her, was accustomed to ride on a tame crocodile in 
 Egypt ; but he, being shy, preferred talking, in a low tone, to the 
 Ladies Harley, to bawling out to the deaf Lady Cork. She was, 
 however, not to be put off, but contrived to carry him away in 
 her carriage." 
 
 The saddest change that had taken place among my friends in 
 England, while I was at West Point, was that which had over- 
 taken poor Newton. He was insane. 
 
 On my visit to him at the asylum at Chelsea, where he was 
 placed, his conversation was, for the most part, rational, but he 
 always uttered something, sufficiently flighty to show the state of 
 his mind. At one time, his friends had some hope, from his 
 having taken up his pencil, which he had long laid aside. Dr. 
 Sutherland considered this a favourable symptom. 
 
 * Now Sir Gardner Wilkinson. 
 
92 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap VI. 
 
 On calling to see him in October, 1834, he showed me many- 
 pencil sketches, and one begun in oil. The subject of the oil 
 sketch was the widow of Lord Strafford showing her son his 
 father's portrait. He told me that Lord Strafford * was not exe- 
 cuted, but had vanished from the scaffold and was still living ; 
 that he was the same person as Lorenzo de' Medici, who had ap- 
 peared in the world many times in different characters. With the 
 exception of this flight, his conversation was rational. A profile 
 of Walter Scott, drawn by him in lead pencil, I had seen before, 
 and had asked him to give it me. He had promised that he 
 would, when he had made a copy of it, and he now showed me 
 the copy, and said I might have that or the first. I chose the 
 first, but they were both very like Sir Walter. The following 
 lines of Newton's composition, are on the back of the sketch : — 
 
 " 'Tis thine, renowned being, the task, the privilege, 
 ' To hold the mirror up to nature.' 
 Whether thy pen instruct us or thy conduct, 
 Alike we are taught. First by the magic of that pen 
 What man has been ; then by thy fair career, 
 The more important lesson what he should be." 
 
 The subject of his other sketches were, " Christ blessing little 
 children," " Lear in the Storm," " Miranda and Prospero on the 
 summit of a rock looking at the Shipwreck," " Falconbridge 
 upbraiding Hubert with the murder of Arthur," "Uncle Toby, 
 Mrs. Wadman, and Trim," " La Fleur taking leave of his Sweet- 
 hearts " (the figure of La Fleur very good), " The nurse lament- 
 ing over Juliet, whom she supposes dead," "A child marching 
 through a garden of flowers, fancying himself a soldier, and salut- 
 ing the flowers " (this Newton said was himself, and what he did 
 when a child), " Bardolph moralising to Falstaff," " Edie Ochil- 
 tree making toys for children," " The Antiquary waiting for the 
 coach," and other sketches, several of which were of mothers 
 and children. 
 
 I took care that all the materials required for drawing and 
 painting should be placed in his room ; but he never again 
 sketched or painted. 
 
 He died in August, 1835. A few days before his death, his 
 * If I recollect aright, Lord Strafford had no son. 
 
CHAP VI.] 
 
 NEWTON, THE PAINTER. 
 
 93 
 
 mind seemed somewhat restored, though I did not hear that it 
 was ever entirely so. During the rapid consumption that ended 
 his life, he read only the Bible and Prayer-book ; and when he 
 became too weak to read, they were read to him by an attendant. 
 The day before he died, he desired to hear the funeral service, 
 saying, " It will soon be read over me." He listened with great 
 attention, and remarked that it was " very fine." 
 
 Newton, like Constable, was misunderstood by those who did 
 not know him thoroughly. I knew enough of him, and of his 
 actions, to know that his heart was noble, and his mind a pure 
 one. His pleasantry and good manners made him very accept- 
 able in society. He was a most amusing companion, and though 
 the two or three things I recollect him to have said may not be 
 the least worth noting, I will put them down at a venture. He 
 happened to remark to a friend, that he was often in want of rags 
 to clean his palette. 
 
 " What do you do with your old shirts ? " 
 
 " I wear them." 
 
 A gentleman showing him his pictures, and discovering from 
 his manner that he did not think highly of them, said, " At least 
 you will allow that it is a tolerable collection." 
 
 " True, sir ; but would you eat a tolerable egg ? " 
 
 When Sir Thomas Lawrence died, and we were speculating as 
 to his successor in the chair of the Academy, Newton said, " It 
 must be either Phillips or Shee, for they are the only Academi- 
 cians who wear powder." 
 
 Speaking of art to me, and when in the asylum, he said, " A 
 painter cannot do better than attend to the advice of Polonius, 
 i Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.' " 
 
 On his return from America, and when he was quite himself, 
 an Englishman asking him about the society in Boston, said, 
 " You must have felt the difference ; you did not meet such 
 people there as you associate with here." 
 
 " I met such people there," he said, " every day, as I am glad 
 to meet here occasionally." 
 
 This was not said merely for the sake of making an unexpected 
 answer, for I know that, in Boston at that time, the best society 
 included many men of rare intellectual attainments ; and in a 
 
04 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. VI. 
 
 place so much smaller than London, Newton's opportunities of 
 meeting such men were much more frequent than here. 
 
 Newton was, to my eye, a handsome man, though his features 
 were far from regular. He was tall, and his hands, like Wilkie's, 
 were beautifully formed and very white. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Visit to Cashiobury — Sir Joshua Reynolds — Theatrical Stars — Jack Bannis- 
 ter — The Sistine Chapel — Chantrey — Holland House — Sir George 
 Beaumont — Constable, the Painter. 
 
 I scarcely know whether the following passages from my 
 journal are worth preserving, but I feel inclined to take them 
 from among many others which I am sure are not. 
 
 "December 2ith, 1834. — Dined with Constable. Mr. Rogers 
 and Mr. and Miss Wilkie, and Mr. Bannister were there. Ban- 
 nister amused us very much with a comic song as sung by 4 Mr. 
 Killjoy,' a person wholly destitute of humour. He spoke of Mrs. 
 Siddons, and Mrs. Jordan, whose first appearances he remembers. 
 He acquits Garrick of behaving ill to Mrs. Siddons in not engag- 
 ing her, for he said Garrick could not guess at her future emi- 
 nence, as she displayed very little talent at first. Mrs. Jordan's 
 voice was the most delightful he ever heard on the stage. Wil- 
 kie asked Bannister if he had seen Dr. Johnson. He said, 
 4 once in the street,' and knew him from Sir Joshua Reynolds's 
 portrait. Bannister was intended by his father for an artist. 
 He drew in the Academy, and remembers sitting behind Bartol- 
 lozzi and Cipriani in the Life-School, and thinking their draw- 
 ings wonderful. He gave us an imitation of an old Jew, and in 
 doing this so altered his features, and even his figure, as to lose, 
 to appearance, his own identity. He raised his shoulders, which 
 gave him the look of a tall man, whose head was sunk in his 
 chest with age. He described the Jew, as complimenting him on 
 his acting, ' And your fader, Mr. Bannister, oh ! what an actor he 
 was ! what a voice he had ! So beautiful — so melodious ! He 
 could go as low as a bull.' 
 
 "August 5tk, 1835. — At Cashiobury. Mr. Rogers there. I 
 walked with him for two hours in the garden. He remembers 
 
96 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. [chap. vn. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds ; but was only twice in his company. He 
 once breakfasted with him, and he was present at his last dis- 
 course. On that occasion the room was crowded, and Burke and 
 Boswell were there. As Sir Joshua descended from the reading- 
 desk, Burke stepped forward, and taking his hand, said : — 
 
 " The angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 
 So charming left his voice, that he a while 
 Thought him still speaking, still stood fixt to hear." 
 
 " It was on this evening that the sinking of the floor of the 
 great room a few inches so much alarmed the company. All 
 rushed to the door, and it was some time before it was a-certained 
 there was no danger. When the fright was over, Mr. Rogers 
 obtained a much better situation than he had before. 
 
 "At dinner the conversation turned on the trial of Queen Caro- 
 line. A gentleman mentioned a reply made by a Quaker who 
 was asked, what the Society of Friends thought of the Queen, 
 while that disgraceful business was going on. 4 We are of opin- 
 ion,' said he, 4 that she is not good enough for our Queen, but too 
 good for our King.' 
 
 " Lord Essex told us that, when it became the fashion for the 
 nobility to marry actresses, Lady Spencer said, 4 If my daughters 
 don't go off this season, I shall bring them out on the stage.' 
 
 " Mr. Rogers, speaking of the stage, remarked that, in the 
 performance of a fine play we receive a greater amount of intel- 
 lectual gratification, the result of a greater variety of genius and 
 ingenuity, than we can from any other entertainment that has 
 ever been devised. Take, for instance, 4 Macbeth,' as we have all 
 seen it acted, — the poetry of Shakespeare, the acting of Mrs. 
 Siddons, and John and Charles Kemble, the music of Lock, the 
 beauty of the scenery and ingenuity of the mechanism. 
 
 44 1 was amused to hear Lord Essex, speaking of happiness, 
 say : 4 The secret is to be content with the little one has. The 
 Duke of Bedford and Lord Egremont, with all their wealth, are 
 not happier than I am.' 
 
 44 October 19th. — At the painting-school at the Academy are 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds's splendid picture of Iphigenia, belonging to 
 the king, and a small picture of a child by him. Oliver, who is 
 keeper of the painting-school, told me that he used to go to Sir 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 SIE JOSHUA KEYNOLDS. 
 
 97 
 
 Joshua, when a student, to show him his pictures, and request ad- 
 vice, and was always very kindly received. It was Sir Joshua's 
 practice to admit young artists in the morning before he com- 
 menced painting, and he most readily lent them his finest works 
 to copy. Turner also told me that he copied many of his pic- 
 tures when he was a student. Oliver says Sir Joshua's manner 
 was, on these occasions, exactly as Goldsmith has described it : 
 
 ' Gentle, complying, and bland.' 
 
 " Allan Cunningham's £ Life of Reynolds ' being the last, and 
 published in a popular form, would be injurious to the memory of 
 Sir Joshua, disfigured as it is by prejudices, were it not that the 
 writer seldom fails to confute his own reasoning where it is erro- 
 neous, and that his misrepresentations of Sir Joshua's words are 
 too glaring to escape the notice of even a hasty reader. For 
 instance, he quotes the following passage from the account the 
 great painter gives of his sensations on visiting the Vatican : 
 i On inquiring further of other students, I found that those per- 
 sons only who, from natural imbecility, appeared to be incapable 
 of relishing those divine performances (the frescos of Raphael) 
 made pretensions to instantaneous raptures on first beholding 
 them,' and on the next page Cunningham says, ( the conclusion 
 which Reynolds draws, viz., that none but an imbecile person can 
 be alive at first sight to the genius of Raphael, is certainly rash, 
 and, most probably, erroneous.' And yet Allan Cunningham was 
 an honest and well-meaning man. But the passage I have quoted, 
 as well as many others in his ' Life of Reynolds,' and some in 
 the 1 Life of Wilkie,' in which the Royal Academy is spoken of, 
 show how far an honest mind may be carried away from the truth 
 by prejudice. Such unfairness to the personal character of Rey- 
 nolds, and to the Academy, is equally unaccountable. 
 
 " November 9tk. — Dined at Holland House. Lord Seaford, 
 who was there, remembers dining in company with Dr. Johnson, 
 at Dr. Brocklesby's. Lord Seaford was then a boy of twelve or 
 thirteen. He was impressed with the superiority of Johnson, and 
 his knocking everybody down in argument. 
 
 " Lord Holland said, Mr. Fox always avoided talking with Dr. 
 Johnson on account of his over-bearing manner. Johnson heard 
 7 
 
98 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VII. 
 
 somebody say Mr. Fox was ' Aut Caesar aut nihil.' He remarked 
 that Fox was ' nihil ' whenever he met him. 
 
 " Lord Holland said he saw Kean and Kemble play the last 
 scene in ' A New Way to Pay Old Debts,' on the same night. 
 As Kemble was slower than Kean, Lord Holland* went, the in- 
 stant the curtain fell at Drury Lane, to Covent Garden, and was 
 in time for Kemble. 
 
 " On being asked which he preferred, he replied, ' I hardly like 
 to say, for I had always a friendship for Kemble.' 
 
 " November 1 Qth. — Dined at Cartwright's, with my wife. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Bannister there. Bannister talked of Garrick. He 
 said, it seemed invidious to speak of his acting compared with 
 that of others, it was, in general, so superior. Kean, he said, 
 had flashes of power equal to Garrick, but he could not sustain a 
 character throughout as Garrick did.* 
 
 " In Lear, Bannister said, Garrick's very stick acted. The 
 scene with Cordelia and the physician, as Garrick played it, was 
 the most pathetic he ever saw on the stage.f Garrick instructed 
 Barry in Romeo, and afterwards when Barry played it in rivalry 
 with him he was obliged to alter his own manner, notwithstanding 
 which he beat Barry. A lady (I forget her name), who had per- 
 formed Juliet with them both, said, she thought she must have 
 jumped out of the balcony to Barry, and that she thought Gar- 
 rick would have jumped into the balcony to her. 
 
 " Garrick instructed Bannister, when the latter was about 
 
 * My own impression is, that I never saw finer acting than Kean's Othello, 
 not even excepting any performance of Mrs. Siddons. His finest passages were 
 those most deeply pathetic. 
 
 t I was told by Mr. Harness (Lord Byron's friend), who in early life was 
 much in theatrical society, of the manner in which Garrick gave a passage 
 from Lear (Mr. Harness, no doubt, had it from the Kembles). When Lear 
 curses his daughter, and wishes, if she should have a child, that it may prove 
 ungrateful, " that she may feel," &c, Garrick repeated these words thus: 
 
 " That she may feel — that she may feel — 
 How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
 To have a thankless child." 
 
 Both times he dwelt with the strongest emphasis on feel, first raising his voice 
 to the highest key, and the second time sinking it to the deepest bass, and paus- 
 ing for a moment after that word. Let this be tried, and the effect will be at 
 once perceived. 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 JACK BANNISTER. 
 
 90 
 
 seventeen, in three characters, one of which was Zaphne, in 
 ' Mahomet.' In this he first appeared, and with great success. 
 A day or two afterwards meeting Garrick in the street, the man- 
 ager said : — 
 
 " ' Well now, I suppose you are on the top of St. Paul's, but 
 don't be vain. What character do you think of next ? ' 
 " Bannister mentioned ' Oronooko.' 
 
 " ' Oronooko,' said Garrick, ' why, you will look like a chimney- 
 sweeper in a consumption.' (Bannister was at that time very 
 thin.) 
 
 " Garrick's manner of saying this was dramatic, and that of a 
 man who was conscious he was known and looked at. ' Dick, the 
 Apprentice,' was one of the characters in which Garrick instruct- 
 ed Bannister, and when he first played it, he gave imitations of 
 living actors ; that of Bensley, in particular, was thought very 
 good ; but finding that public mimickry often hurt the feelings of 
 those he mimicked, more than he could have supposed, he gave it 
 up entirely. 
 
 " Though I had the great pleasure of seeing much of Mr. Ban- 
 nister, after his retirement, I only saw him on the stage twice. 
 The first time was in a little interlude, ' The Purse, or the Benev- 
 olent Tar,' and the second in ' Wild Oats,' in which he played John 
 Dory, and the scenes between him and Dowton (Sir George 
 Thunder) were matchless for genuine humour. 
 
 " Bannister was remarkably handsome, even as an old man ; 
 his dark eyes, still full of animation, were the more striking from 
 the contrast with his white hair. His nature was a thoroughly 
 genial one. 'When I first attracted notice on the stage,' he 
 said, 1 1 was told of such and such people who were my enemies ; 
 but I never would listen to such reports, for I was determined to 
 go through life without enemies, and I have done so.' 
 
 " He said to Constable, ' they say it is my wife who has taken 
 care of my money and made me comfortable in my old age ; and 
 so she has ; but I think I deserve a little of the credit, for I let 
 her do it.'" 
 
 Though with the help of his wife he was careful, yet he was 
 very generous. I remember hearing Terry relate that he put a 
 bond for a sum of money, and not a small sum, which he had 
 
100 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. vii. 
 
 lent to a friend, into the fire, on finding that its payment was in- 
 convenient ; but in doing this, he said, " Don't tell my wife." 
 To return to my diary : — 
 
 "July 2Qth. — In the evening I took little Harriet and Caro- 
 line, with Rebecca and William Clark, to the gardens of the 
 Eyre Arms Hotel, where there was an exhibition of fireworks, 
 &c. A woman was to ascend a rope across the gardens, 300 
 feet in length, and 60 feet from the ground at its greatest height. 
 She proceeded slowly, in consequence, as I afterwards learned, 
 of the rope not being sufficiently tight ; and when she was with- 
 in a short distance of the end she stopped, being unable either to 
 advance or to go back. The ascent had become so steep from the 
 slackness of the rope, that she could not proceed a step higher, 
 neither could she stoop to take hold of it without throwing away 
 the balance-pole, and had she done that she must have fallen. 
 For some minutes she continued stationary, her husband calling 
 to her from below to go back. I was too far off to hear her re- 
 ply ; but it was evident she could not venture to turn round. 
 Her situation became every instant more perilous ; and I was 
 about to leave the garden, fearing she would lose her presence of 
 mind, and dreading to see her fall, and that my little girls should 
 witness so horrid a sight. I should mention, that, as it was quite 
 dark, she was only made visible by fireworks exploding around 
 and below her. The top of a ladder now rose from the midst of 
 the crowd ; but when perpendicular it was not long enough to 
 reach her feet ; and there was another dreadful minute or two of 
 suspense, with cries and screams from the crowd. A table was 
 then brought from the inn, and the ladder placed on it, and kept 
 in a perpendicular position by two men at the foot, while another 
 ascended. There were loud cries of " Don't let the ladder touch 
 the rope ! " as he went up. The top of it rose but a foot above 
 the rope ; and he could use but one arm in saving her, as with 
 the other he had to keep hold of the ladder. It seemed, there- 
 fore, scarcely possible that he could help her. After a few mo- 
 ments' consultation, he called to the crowd to stand from below. 
 She threw away the balance-pole, and at the same instant stooped 
 towards the ladder, and, falling across the rope, remained sus- 
 pended, with one leg over it, and her arms holding to the ladder. 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 THE SISTINE CHAPEL. 
 
 101 
 
 It was with some difficulty that her preserver managed to re- 
 move her to the ladder ; but as soon as he did, she descended 
 rapidly, amidst the cheering of the crowd ; while the gallant fel- 
 low who had saved her seemed in some danger himself, for he re- 
 mained for a short time suspended by his hands to the rope, with 
 only one foot on the step of the ladder. But he soon righted 
 himself, and reached the ground. I left the children in the care 
 of Mr. Danforth, who had accompanied us to the garden, and, 
 mixing with the crowd, asked her preserver if he was related to 
 her ; he said £ No/ and that he was only a servant. He was a 
 fine-looking young man, and I was told had been a sailor. Hav- 
 ing half a sovereign in my pocket, I put it into his hand. 
 
 " July 28th. — Dined with my neighbor Richard Cook : Wilkie, 
 Phillips, Hilton, and Blore were there. In speaking of the ceil- 
 ing of the Sistine Chapel, Wilkie praised its chiaroscuro and 
 colour. He said in many of the pictures there were bright lights, 
 so intense, that it was thought, generally, other parts had become 
 faint or low in tone from time ; and these effects were not, there- 
 fore, copied by the engravers, who probably thought them acci- 
 dental. Wilkie, however, was of a different opinion, and believed 
 that the general effect of the pictures was not materially altered 
 by time. He observed, that no engravings of them gave the 
 chiaroscuro. 
 
 "My 31st. — In the evening I went to Mr. Dunlop's. Mr. 
 Dunlop had been sitting to Chantrey, who fixed the back of his 
 head in a wooden machine to keep him perfectly still, and then 
 drew with a camera lucida the profile and front face of the size 
 of life. He afterwards gave a little light and shade to the draw- 
 ings, and said, ' I shall not require you to sit still after this.' He 
 said, ' I always determine in my mind the expression to be 
 given ; and unless I can see the face distinctly, and with that ex- 
 pression when I close my eyes, I can do nothing. If I can, I 
 can often make the face more like in the absence of the sitter 
 than in his presence.' Thus it is that a certain degree of imagi- 
 nation is required to make a fine portrait. Chantrey's portraits 
 were of the best kind, characteristic and not literal ; and so I am 
 convinced were Reynolds's, who, I have no doubt, often gave to 
 his heads touches of the greatest value when the sitter was away. 
 
102 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VII. 
 
 He who can only work with his model before him can never 
 ' produce an elevated work, either in history, portraits, or land- 
 scape. 
 
 " But a great portrait painter or sculptor must look to have the 
 works of inferior artists often preferred to his. I am told Rey- 
 nolds's portraits frequently disappointed the people for whom they 
 were painted, and I know that Chan trey's busts sometimes did. 
 The family of Lord Egremont preferred a bust of his lordship, 
 by Behnes, to the noble one by Chantrey, one of the very best 
 of his works, and, to my mind, possessing all the character of 
 Lord Egremont's fine head. If, as I think, it be true, that a 
 great artist will often give the happiest touches to his work in the 
 absence of his model, it is equally true that he who trusts to 
 imagination alone, is in great danger of falling into irreclaimable 
 mannerism or insipid vagueness. The greatest artist is the one 
 who knows how to avail himself of every means towards his end, 
 and who is quickest at taking advantage of every favourable 
 accident that nature presents. The results of such powers will 
 make every work of his hand a work of imagination, whatever 
 the subject may be. For my own part, I have always felt that 
 there is more poetry in the portraits of Reynolds than in nine- 
 tenths of the pictures professedly poetic in subject 
 
 " In the course of a walk with Mr. Rogers, he talked much of 
 Canova, whom he described as a most amiable man. Canova 
 told him that he was in love when he was but five years old. 
 
 " At dinner, Mr. Rogers related a story of a nervous gentle- 
 man who kept a fire-escape — a kind of sack in which he could 
 lower himself from his window. Being suddenly awakened, one 
 night, by the sound, as he thought, of the wheels of a fire-engine, 
 followed by a tremendous knocking at the door, he descended in 
 his sack in great haste, and reached the street just in time to 
 hand his wife (who had been to the opera) out of her carriage. 
 
 " Another story related by Rogers was of a wretch who, for 
 some atrocious crime, was hanged in chains. His whole life had 
 been so desperately wicked that the country people believed his 
 body would be carried away by the Devil. The day after his 
 execution their prediction seemed verified, for the corpse was 
 gone ; but, strange to say, in about eight or ten days it was there 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 HOLLAND HOUSE. 
 
 103 
 
 again, safely enclosed within the irons and as if but newly dead. 
 The truth was, that on the night of the execution, a farmer and 
 his son who had been for some days from home, were returning 
 in a cart, and passing close to the gibbet were startled by a groan 
 from the body, and then a feeble voice imploring help. When 
 they got the fellow home, they nursed him with the greatest care, 
 till, in the middle of one night, his deliverer was disturbed by a 
 noise, and discovered the villain in the act of packing up every 
 article of value in the house which he could conveniently carry 
 away. The farmer had just time to awake his son, who agreed 
 with him that they had better put their new friend into his chains 
 again. 
 
 " In looking over a large collection of prints from Sir Joshua, 
 Mr. Rogers observed of a common-place-looking General among 
 them, 1 That is one of the men of whom Lord North said, when 
 a list was presented to him of officers to be sent to America, " I 
 know not what effect these names may have on the enemy, but 
 they make me tremble." ' 
 
 " I noticed that Mr. Neat, in speaking of the music of Handel 
 and Beethoven, made use of the words outline and colour. Thus, 
 the arts borrow terms from each other. So painters speak of 
 tone and harmony. Neat said, that eminent musicians were 
 sometimes insensible to the beauties of a fine piece of music on 
 first hearing it ; and he had known them dislike a piece, which 
 afterwards gave them the greatest delight. I told him what Sir 
 Joshua said of his great disappointment on seeing the frescos of 
 Raphael. 
 
 " Mrs. Malaprop's axiom, that ' it is best to begin with a little 
 hate,' is not altogether absurd. Certainly, when we do change 
 in anything from such a beginning, our liking is always the 
 stronger. 
 
 " September 7th. — Dined at Holland House. * * * Lord Hol- 
 land speaking of Boswell, whom he remembered, said that 
 whenever he came into a company where Horace Walpole was, 
 Walpole would throw back Ins head, purse up his mouth very 
 significantly, and not speak a word while Boswell remained. 
 
 "September 13th. — Looking into DTsraeli's 'Curiosities of 
 Literature,' I find an article entitled ' Poets, Philosophers, and 
 
104 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. [chap. vii. 
 
 Artists made by Accident.' D'Israeli begins truly enough by 
 saying, 'accident has frequently occasioned the most eminent 
 geniuses to display their power/ and then gives about a dozen 
 instances. If, however, he means that but for those accidents the 
 powers of such men might have remained unknown to them- 
 selves, and therefore unused ; or that men differently constituted, 
 meeting with similar accidents, would have done what they did, 
 he is, I think, mistaken. We learn to talk by the accident of 
 hearing others talk ; but, without a natural capability of speech, 
 we should remain dumb as our cats and dogs do, though they 
 hear us speak. Gibbon, it is true, might not have written his 
 ' Decline of the Roman Empire,' but for the accident of hearing 
 the bare-footed friars singing vespers in the temple of Jupiter ; 
 but he would have written something else in which the same 
 powers of mind and turn of thinking would have been displayed. 
 The accident did not make Gibbon an historian, it only directed 
 him in the choice of a subject. Neither is it to be supposed, that 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds would not have been a painter, and every 
 whit as great a one, had he never seen 4 Richardson's Treatise.' 
 He read the treatise with interest, because his mind was natural- 
 ly turned more towards painting than to anything else. Dr. 
 Franklin, another of DTsraeli's instances, might have taken up 
 Richardson fifty times, and fifty times laid him aside without 
 reading a page ; but, when Defoe's ' Essay on Projects ' came in 
 his way, he read it with avidity ; and as he himself says, ' de- 
 rived impressions that influenced some of the principal events of 
 his life.' Yet we cannot suppose, that, but for this book, the 
 world would not have known Franklin as a philosopher. But to 
 return to Reynolds and Richardson, it must be admitted that if 
 even books could infuse a love of art, and an ambition to shine 
 as a painter, into a mind hitherto insensible to such things, Rich- 
 ardson's discourses would be the most likely to do so. 
 
 " December 1st. — Dined with Constable. He mentioned that 
 Wilkie and he were students together at the Academy. Wilkie 
 told him that when he studied at the Scottish Academy, Graham, 
 the master of it, was accustomed to say to the students, in the 
 words of Reynolds — ' If you have genius, industry will improve 
 it ; if you have none, industry will supply its place.' ' So,' said 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT. 
 
 105 
 
 Wilkie, ' I was determined to be very industrious, for I knew I 
 had no genius.' Wilkie said, also, to Constable — 'When Linnell, 
 and Burnet' (who were his fellow students in London), 'are talk- 
 ing about art, I always get as close as I can, to hear all they say, 
 for they know a great deal, and I know very little.' This was 
 said with perfect sincerity, for Wilkie was modest. 
 
 " It was not because Sir George Beaumont was a man of rank 
 and wealth, that Wilkie was so docile to his teaching. Sir George 
 was, in the first place, a much older man ; and, besides being a 
 clever amateur painter, had known, intimately, Reynolds and 
 Gainsborough, indeed all the first artists, and many of his own 
 opinions were therefore derived from the highest authorities ; 
 added to which he was an admirable talker, and in every way a 
 very delightful person." 
 
 On the 1st of April, 1837, as I was dressing, I saw from my 
 window, Pitt (a man employed by Constable to carry messages) 
 at the gate. He sent up word that he wished to speak to me, 
 and I ran down expecting one of Constable's amusing notes, or a 
 message from him ; but the message was from his children, and to 
 tell me that he had died suddenly the night before. My wife and 
 I were in Charlotte Street as soon as possible. I went up into 
 his bed-room, where he lay, looking as if in a tranquil sleep ; his 
 watch, which his hand had so lately wound up, ticking on a table 
 by his side, on which also lay a book he had been reading scarce- 
 ly an hour before his death.* He had died as he lived, sur- 
 rounded by art, for the walls of the little attic were covered with 
 engravings, and his feet nearly touched a print of the beautiful 
 moonlight by Rubens, belonging to Mr. Rogers. I remained the 
 whole of the day in the house, and the greater part of it in his 
 room, watching the progress of the casts that were made from his 
 face by his neighbour, Mr. Joseph, and by Mr. Davis. I felt his 
 loss far less then than I have since done — than I do even now. 
 Its suddenness produced the effect of a blow which stuns at first 
 and pains afterwards ; and I have lived to learn how much more 
 I have lost in trim, than at that time I supposed. Those personal 
 qualities that attached me to him gained more and more on me 
 
 * It was a volume of Southey's " Life of Cowper," containing many of the 
 poet's letters. 
 
106 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. [chap. vii. 
 
 while he lived, and the examination of his papers and letters 
 since his death, has increased my esteem for him in proportion 
 as they gave me a deeper insight into his character. It is a grat- 
 ification to me to believe that some of my feelings and tastes are 
 like his ; indeed, if this be not true, I know not how to account 
 for the great delight his pictures give me, a delight distinct from, 
 and I almost think superior to, that which I receive from any 
 other pictures whatever. 
 
 Among all the landscape painters, ancient or modern, no one 
 carries me so entirely to nature ; and I can truly say, that since 
 I have known his works I have never looked at a tree or the sky 
 without being reminded of him. 
 
 We talk of untimely deaths ; but all deaths I believe to be 
 merciful, for God, no doubt, takes every one of us at the time 
 best for ourselves. The bodily sufferings that immediately pre- 
 ceded Constable's death, though acute, were of very short dura- 
 tion ; and he was spared a world of anxiety which the thought 
 of leaving his children young, and orphans, must have occasioned, 
 had he lingered on a sick bed with no hope of recovery — 
 anxiety which, with such feelings as his, would have been ex- 
 treme. 
 
 I have said in another place that Constable was a gentleman, 
 everywhere and at all times, and as much to the humblest as to 
 the greatest people. He even conciliated that untractable class, 
 the hackney coachmen ; for, in his time, there were no cabs. He 
 would say on getting into a coach : — 
 
 " Now, my good fellow, drive me a shilling fare towards so and 
 so, and don't cheat yourself." 
 
 Not long after his death, I was coming away from his house, 
 and sent for a coach from the stand near it. When I got home 
 the driver said : — "I knew Mr. Constable ; and, when I heard 
 he was dead, I was as sorry as if he had been my own father — 
 he was as nice a man as that, sir." 
 
 To the selection from Constable's letters which I printed in 
 the form of a memoir, I added recollections of son^e of his pithy 
 sayings. In addition to those, I remember two that may be worth 
 preserving. He numbered among his friends Doctors Bailey and 
 Gooch, and had a great respect for the abilities of such men. 
 
CHAP. VII.] 
 
 CONSTABLE, THE PAINTER. 
 
 107 
 
 But this did not hinder him from saying, " As every animal has 
 its peculiar food, or prey, provided by nature, I look upon women 
 and children to be the natural prey of doctors." 
 
 Lord Northwick met him in an auction room, and said : — "I 
 shall be glad, Mr. Constable, to take advantage of your judgment 
 here." 
 
 " I am afraid, my lord," he said, " the judgment of a painter 
 is of very little value in such a place as this, for we only know 
 good pictures from bad ones. We know nothing of their pedi- 
 grees, of their market value, or how far certain masters are in 
 fashion." 
 
 In the room in which this was said, and at the same time, a 
 picture by Bonnington was placed as a pendant to one by Con- 
 stable, and he said to a friend — " Bonnington's picture will sell 
 high and mine low ; " and this happened, but the reverse would 
 happen now. 
 
 He said of a portrait painter who had worked his way to some 
 eminence, but whose art was of the tamest and most common- 
 place kind, that, when he painted a head, " he took out all the 
 bones and all the brains." In this saying he characterised an 
 entire class of portraiture, and not a small one. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Lord Egremont — The Coronation — The Duke of Wellington — Lord Mel- 
 bourne — The Princess ' Royal — Wilkie's Asiatic Sketches — Raimbach, 
 the Engraver — Newton and Wilkie — Wilkie's Letters. 
 
 In the summer of 1837 I was at Pet worth, and saw Lord 
 Egremont for the last time. He had just put up a marble slab, 
 in the church, bearing inscriptions to the memories of the 9th, 
 10th, and 11th Earls of Northumberland, their wives and chil- 
 dren, and some other members of the Percy family. They con- 
 cluded thus : — 
 
 " This Monument was erected to their memory by their descendant, George, 
 Earl of Egremont, in the year 1837, the 86th of his age. 
 
 " Mortuis Moriturus." 
 
 My next journey to Petworth was to attend his funeral. On 
 that occasion all the shops in the town were closed, and business 
 entirely suspended. Indeed all the inhabitants were present, 
 either following the procession, or lining the way as it passed. 
 There was not a single carriage. All the mourners followed the 
 coffin on foot, and the line was continued to a great length. The 
 many artists who had enjoyed his patronage, Turner, Phillips, 
 Carew, Clint, and myself, were present. 
 
 For more than ten years I had, nearly every season, spent 
 from one to two months at Petworth, with my wife and children ; 
 and we were always made to feel quite at home there. Such a 
 friend, in such a sphere of life, we can never hope to find again. 
 
 One little circumstance I cannot help mentioning, because it 
 marks the character of Lord Egremont, and shows that to the 
 last moment of his life he was, as he had always been, studying 
 the good of others. He was remarkably fond of children ; and, 
 as I have mentioned, was accustomed to have all that were in the 
 house brought into his room while he was dressing. On the day 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 LORD EGREMONT. 
 
 109 
 
 of his death those of his grand-children who were at Petworth 
 were brought to him ; but when they were about to kiss him as 
 usual, he motioned them away, no doubt thinking his breath 
 might do them harm. 
 
 After what I had known of Lord Egremont, I was amused to 
 see him characterised in one of Walpole's letters to Sir Horace 
 Mann as " a most worthless young fellow?' * He had made a 
 proposal of marriage to Walpole's niece, lady Maria Waldegrave, 
 second daughter of the Duchess of Gloucester. Walpole, in 
 mentioning that the offer was accepted, says, " He is eight-and- 
 twenty, is handsome, and has between twenty and thirty thousand 
 a-year." In less than three weeks, however, Sir Horace Mann 
 is told that the match is broken off. Lord Egremont, who is 
 "weak and irresolute, has behaved with so much neglect and 
 want of attention, that Lady Maria heroically took the resolution 
 of writing to the Duchess, who was in the country, to desire her 
 leave to break off the match. The Duchess, who had disliked 
 the conduct of her future son-in-law, but could not refuse her con- 
 sent to so advantageous a match, gladly assented ; but the foolish 
 boy, by new indiscretion, has drawn universal odium on himself. 
 He instantly published the rupture, but said nothing of Lady 
 Maria's having been the first to declare off ; and everybody thinks 
 he broke off the match, and condemns him ten times more than 
 would have been the case if he had told the truth, though he was 
 guilty enough in giving the provocation." 
 
 Now Lord Egremont was certainly, when I had the happiness 
 of knowing him, anything but a foolish, a weak, or an irresolute 
 man ; but he was shy and taciturn, and probably had been still 
 more so in his youth. It seems probable, then, that the lady re- 
 jected him solely from not understanding his character. He was 
 not a man to talk sentiment, or to throw himself on his knees at 
 the feet of a woman ; not that he was in the least insensible to the 
 charms of the sex, but for the reasons I have mentioned. What 
 attentions she may have expected, and how far he failed in them, 
 it is impossible to guess ; but it is clear, from her uncle's account, 
 that Lord Egremont did not in the least consider himself to 
 blame. 
 
 * Letter 333, dated July 24th, 1780. 
 
110 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. VIII. 
 
 In the summer of 1838 Lady Holland sent for me to break- 
 fast, as she had something to tell me. This was, that the Queen 
 had expressed a wish to see the portrait I had painted of Lord 
 Holland. " I thought," said Lady Holland, " she might as well 
 see the artist with it ; and Lord Melbourne has just written to me 
 to say she will see you to-morrow at two o'clock." I saw that all 
 this was kindly managed by Lady Holland for my advantage ; 
 and so it turned out. 
 
 Lady Holland, without my asking or expecting it, procured for 
 me a ticket to see the Coronation from the Earl Marshal's box. 
 A ticket had also been sent to me, as a member of the Academy, 
 for another part of the Abbey, which enabled my wife to see the 
 ceremony. We set out together, at four o'clock in the morning, 
 for Westminster. On this one occasion in my life I wore a court 
 dress. My wife was in a full evening dress, and it seemed very 
 odd to find ourselves walking in the street (for we walked, when 
 near the Abbey, to save time) such odd figures, at so early an 
 hour of the day. We were, however, kept in countenance by a 
 long procession of ladies and gentlemen, most of them much more 
 finely dressed than we. 
 
 The ceremony was well worth seeing, but I made up my mind 
 that if another Coronation should take place during my life, I 
 certainly should not put on a court dress, get up at three o'clock 
 in the morning, and remain in Westminster Abbey till four in the 
 afternoon, to see it. 
 
 It led, however, to my painting the Queen receiving the Sacra- 
 ment ; and the doing this procured me opportunities of seeing 
 something of Her Majesty, and of several members of the Royal 
 family ; for I was obliged to take the picture to the houses of the 
 Dukes of Sussex and Cambridge, and the Princess Augusta. 
 With the Princess Augusta I was perfectly delighted. I never 
 met with any lady, old or young, of more charming manners. 
 
 The Duke of Cambridge reminded me, in his manner of talk- 
 ing, of Peter Pindar's account of his father. While he sat to 
 me, there was always a gentleman in the room (not one of his 
 household) to whom he addressed himself, sometimes in English 
 and sometimes in German, and his talk was nothing but a series 
 of questions. One day he sent this gentleman out of the room 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 
 
 Ill 
 
 for something, and then talked to me, which he had not done 
 before. "Do you paint all day?. Are you a Royal Academi- 
 cian ? Are you painting any other picture ? Do you walk here 
 or ride ? " &c, &c. 
 
 The Duke of Sussex, talked better and was very pleasant. It 
 was impossible not to like him, but he wasted my time miserably ; 
 keeping me three entire days doing nothing, by not sitting when 
 he had appointed. About once an hour a servant came to me in 
 the library, where I had the picture, to tell me the Duke had 
 visitors, but would be with me very soon. 
 
 I wrote to the Duke of Wellington to say that I was com- 
 manded by the Queen to introduce his portrait into a picture I 
 was painting for Her Majesty. He answered my note by return 
 of post, and the next day he called. His first words were : " You 
 live a great way from my house ; five miles, I should say." I 
 said I did not think it was more than three. " Oh, you're mis- 
 taken, it's five miles." I then said, as I was fully aware of the 
 value of his time, I would take the picture to Apsley House, if 
 agreeable to him. He was pleased with this, and appointed an 
 early day ; " but," he added, " my time is so little my own that I 
 may not be able to sit. However, if I can't, I will send you 
 word before you leave home in the morning ; for your time is of 
 as much consequence to you, as mine is to me." On the morning 
 appointed, as I heard nothing from him to prevent me, I took the 
 picture to Apsley House, and the first thing he said was, " Well, 
 don't you find it five miles ? " I said as before, and what was the 
 truth, that the distance was not more than three miles, but he re- 
 peated that I was mistaken ; he would have it to be but five. 
 
 When I had sketched his figure, I asked him to look at it. He 
 said, " You have made my head too large, and this is what all the 
 painters have done to whom I have sat. Painters are not aware 
 how very small a part of the human figure the head is. Titian 
 was the only painter who understood this, and by making his 
 heads small he did wonders." 
 
 The Duke could talk more to the purpose on his own subjects. 
 I was told that he said, when describing the Battle of Waterloo 
 at his own table, to some coxcomb who asked him how it was 
 that the French did not, at such a time, attack him in such a 
 place — " Because they were not d d fools." 
 
112 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. vih. 
 
 Next to the Duke of Wellington, the most remarkable man in 
 the picture was Lord Melbourne. I had seen him, for the first 
 time, years before in Murray's drawing-room in Albemarle Street. 
 In that room, Murray held, every morning, such levees as were 
 not to be matched in London. Everybody who knew him, and 
 had any business with him, walked into it without announcement 
 or ceremony ; and there were to be found the most eminent 
 authors and politicians of all parties, drawn together by the com- 
 mon bond of literature. It was then that Murray was receiving 
 MSS. and frequent letters from Lord Byron, and it may be con- 
 ceived how interesting were the fragments of these with which the 
 great publisher treated his company. 
 
 At later periods I saw much of Lord Melbourne at Holland 
 House. His head was a truly noble one. I think, indeed, he 
 was the finest specimen of manly beauty in the meridian of life I 
 ever saw. Not only were his features eminently handsome, but 
 his expression was in the highest degree intellectual. His laugh 
 was frequent, and the most joyous possible, and his voice so deep 
 and musical, that to hear him say the most ordinary things was a 
 pleasure. But his frankness, his freedom from affectation, and 
 his peculiar humour, rendered almost everything he said, though 
 it seemed perfectly natural, yet quite original. At Holland 
 House he was abusing women to Lady Holland. His strong 
 charge against the sex, was the want of charity of women for 
 women. He called them " devils to each other." 
 
 " But," said Lady Holland, " what nurses they are. What 
 would you do without women in your illnesses ? " 
 
 " I would rather have men about me when I am ill ; I think 
 it requires very strong health to put up with women." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the lady, tapping him with her fan, " you have 
 lived among such a rantipole set." 
 
 I met Lord Melbourne at Lady Holland's a day or two after he 
 ceased to be prime minister. He was as joyous as ever, and only 
 took part in the conversation respecting the changes in the Royal 
 household (which were not then completed) to make every body 
 laugh. 
 
 " I hear," said a lady u that ," naming a duke of not the 
 
 most correct habits, " is quite scurrilous at not getting an appoint- 
 ment." 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 LOED MELBOURNE. 
 
 113 
 
 " No," said Lady Holland, " lie can't be scurrilous." 
 " Well, then, he is very angry." 
 
 " It serves him right," said Lord Melbourne, " for being a tory. 
 None of these immoral men ought to be tories. If he had come 
 to me I would not have refused him." 
 
 While sitting to me, he said he remembered, when a child, sitting 
 to Sir Joshua Reynolds. Sir Joshua played with him and rode 
 him on his foot, and said, " Now be a good boy, and sit a little 
 longer, and you shall have another ride." 
 
 He asked me how it was that Raphael was employed by the 
 Pope to paint the walls of the Vatican. 
 
 I said, " Because of his great excellence." 
 
 " But was not his uncle, Bramante, architect to the Pope ? " 
 
 I replied, " I believe Bramante was his uncle." 
 
 " Then it was a job, you may be sure," he said, with his hearty 
 laugh. 
 
 Lord Melbourne, with all his abilities, his good sense, and his 
 scholarship — for I am told he was an accomplished scholar — 
 did not value art, and seemed to have a bad opinion of mankind. 
 Perhaps what Lady Holland said to him, when he expressed his 
 opinion of women, may account for his small belief in human 
 goodness. He had lived among a bad set. 
 
 I found the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Howley, a most 
 agreeable sitter. He talked of Burns, and quoted passages from 
 his poems as instances of exceeding refinement of taste. He had 
 known Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, and been much with Fuseli in 
 the early part of his life. Fuseli, speaking of Dr. Howley, said, 
 " Before he became a dignitary of the church, he used to come to 
 my house frequently, and sit there for hours together; but for 
 some years he seems to forget even my person." * 
 
 The Archbishop, without reference to this passage, which per- 
 haps he had not seen, told me that, greatly as he admired the 
 genius of Fuseli, he was obliged to withdraw from him on ac- 
 count of his ungovernable temper, which was apt to explode in 
 downright insult on his associates. 
 
 I had the pleasure of being much at Lambeth while Dr. How- 
 ley lived. Mrs. Howley asked me to paint a small portrait of 
 * Knowles's " Life of Fuseli." 
 
 8 
 
114 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. VIII. 
 
 him for herself. " He has always been painted," she said, " in his 
 robes, but I don't want a portrait of the Archbishop ; I want a 
 portrait of my husband" I painted him for her in his ordinary- 
 dress, and she was so good as to pay me much more for it than 
 the price I asked. 
 
 In 1841, 1 painted a second picture for the Queen — the Chris- 
 tening of the Princess Royal. I was admitted to see the cere- 
 mony, and made a slight sketch of the Royal personages as they 
 stood round the font in the room. I made a study from the little 
 Princess a few days afterwards. She was then three months old, 
 and a finer child of that age I never saw. It is a curious proof 
 of the readiness with which people believe whatever they hear to 
 the disadvantage of those placed high in rank above them, that at 
 the time at which I made the sketch, it was said everywhere but 
 in the palace and by those who belonged to the Royal household, 
 that the Princess was born blind, and by many it was even be- 
 lieved that she was born without feet. The sketch was shown at 
 a party at Mr. Moon's the evening after I made it, and the ladies 
 all said " What a pity so fine a child should be entirely blind." It 
 was in vain I told them that her eyes were beautifully clear and 
 bright, and that she took notice of everything about her ; — I was 
 told that though her eyes looked bright, and though she might ap- 
 pear to turn them to every object, it was certain she was blind. I 
 remembered that it had been said, two years before, that the Queen 
 herself could scarcely walk, although I knew, from good authority, 
 that she had danced out a pair of shoes at one of her own balls, 
 and when the company thought she had retired for the evening, 
 she reappeared with a new pair. 
 
 It is by the ready credence given to such tales, that people 
 balance the account between their own lot and the splendour of 
 high station. When the marriage between the Queen and Prince 
 Albert took place, bets were laid in the club houses that in six 
 months they would be living separately. 
 
 The most agreeable part of my task in painting the christening 
 of the Princess Royal was, in studying the fine head of the wisest 
 and best of living kings, Leopold, a man whom the people he 
 reigns over scarcely seem to deserve. Nothing could be more 
 agreeable than his manner, and that of his amiable queen, who 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 WILKIE'S ASIATIC SKETCHES. 
 
 115 
 
 was in the room all the time he sat. He speaks English very- 
 well, and she also spoke it. After I had painted for some time, 
 she said, " May I look ? " and, on suggesting some alteration, she 
 said, " You must excuse me, I speak honest ; but if I am wrong 
 don't mind me." 
 
 In the summer of 1841, the country, by the death of Wilkie, 
 lost a great artist, and his friends lost a most amiable and honour- 
 able man. 
 
 When his last works, his Asiatic sketches, were exhibited at 
 Christie's Rooms, I was struck with the contrast they presented 
 to the common-place materials that had been for years brought 
 by other painterj from the countries Wilkie had last visited, and 
 from which he never returned. Their grandeur and breadth of 
 style were as striking as their truth of character and -expression, 
 and in all there was a degree of novelty, from his choice of sub- 
 ject and mode of treatment, which I was not prepared to see 
 after the numerous studies that had been brought from the East 
 by other artists. 
 
 I was glad to see the sincere homage paid to his genius in the 
 high prices that were given for these last sketches, though it was 
 melancholy to think that the industry that produced them, added 
 to the excitement of the scenes in which they were made, and 
 the effects of the climate, must have hastened his death. 
 
 The recollections of all my intercourse with Wilkie, and I 
 knew him for about twenty years, are altogether delightful. I 
 had no reason ever to alter the opinion I first formed of him, that 
 he was a truly great artist and a truly good man. The little 
 peculiarities of his character, as they all arose from the best in- 
 tentions, rather endeared him to his friends than otherwise. He 
 was a modest man, and had no wish to attract attention by eccen- 
 tricity ; and indeed all his oddity, and he was in many things 
 very odd, arose from an extreme desire to be exactly like other 
 people. Naturally shy and reserved, he forced himself to talk. 
 I can easily conceive, from what I knew of him, that he had a 
 great repugnance to making speeches at dinners or public meetings, 
 yet knowing that from the station he had acquired he must do 
 such things, he made public speaking a study. He carried 
 the same desire of being correct into lessser things, not from 
 
116 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. VIII. 
 
 vanity, but from a respect for society, for he considered that 
 genius did not give a man the right to be negligent in his 
 manners, even in trifles. When quadrilles were introduced, 
 Wilkie, who like most other people of his rank had danced 
 reels and country dances only, set himself in the most serious 
 manner to study them. His mind was not a quick one, and 
 I am told he drew ground plans and elevations of the new dances 
 to aid his memory in retaining the lessons of his master. 
 Then, in dancing them, he never omitted the proper step, never 
 for an instant walked, and never took a lady's hand without bow- 
 ing. All this, so different from common ball-room habits, gave a 
 formality to his manner that was extremely amusing, and his 
 dancing, as indeed his mode of doing most things, was, from the 
 same cause, very unlike that of any body else. He was always 
 ceremonious; but, as I have said, from modesty, and not from 
 pride or affectation, for no man had less of either. Long as I 
 knew him, and latterly in very close intimacy, he never addressed 
 me but as Mr. Leslie. 
 
 How admirably he performed every duty of a son, a brother, 
 and a friend, is sufficiently shown in Allan Cunningham's me- 
 moirs of him ; and that his strictly economical habits were con- 
 sistent with a noble liberality, is clear from a passage in the 
 " Autobiography of Abraham Raimbach," from which, as a less 
 known work, I transcribe the following account of Wilkie's con- 
 duct to him respecting the first plate from one of his pictures 
 which Raimbach engraved : — 
 
 " The mutual conditions of our engagement were promptly 
 arranged upon the basis, with various modifications, of one-third 
 share to Wilkie, and two-thirds to me ; which were afterwards 
 changed to one-fourth and three-fourths respectively, at the gener- 
 ous and unsolicited suggestion of Wilkie." 
 
 Raimbach also mentions that when, in order to engrave the 
 " Village Politicians," it became necessary to pay to Sam. Rey- 
 nolds one hundred guineas in consideration of the right to engrave 
 it which had been granted to him, and it was agreed that this 
 sum should be jointly paid by Raimbach and Wilkie, the latter 
 " subsequently took the whole most liberally on himself." 
 
 Wilkie was always thinking of his art, and it may raise a smile 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 NEWTON AND WILKIE. 
 
 117 
 
 to say that he had a true artist's appreciation of the capabilities 
 of a cocked hat. A cocked hat is not only one of the most 
 picturesque coverings for the head ever invented, but by the 
 variety of ways in which it may be worn, it gives expression to 
 greater varieties of character than anything else that ever man 
 put on. 
 
 We have only to turn over the works of Hogarth to be con- 
 vinced of this. I believe the cocked hats of the Chelsea pen- 
 sioners were among Wilkie's inducements to paint his picture of 
 the " Reading of the News of Waterloo." His " Parish Beadle " 
 also, and his " Napoleon and the Pope," each had, to him, the ad- 
 vantage of a very characteristic cocked hat. Had Napoleon 
 worn a round hat, Wilkie would never have put in on his head. 
 Indeed, these execrable round hats, which have now been worn 
 for more than half a century, almost preclude any modern out- 
 door subject from being painted. 
 
 At the funeral of Sir Thomas Lawrence, Wilkie and Con- 
 stable walked together. The cocked hat of the city marshal, on 
 that occcasion, was dressed out with a large quantity of black 
 silk. At the conclusion of the ceremony, when the company were 
 ranged in a circle under the dome of St. Paul's, this officer 
 stepped forward to speak to the undertaker. As he stood for a 
 minute holding this awful hat behind him, it caught the downcast 
 eye of Wilkie, who whispered to Constable, " Don't you find a 
 cocked hat a very difficult thing to manage in a picture ? " He 
 soon became almost loud as he pointed out the fine effect of Mr. 
 Wontner's hat, with its sable trappings. 
 
 Wilkie and Newton made an excursion together into Derby- 
 shire, and visited Chatsworth. After they had been conducted 
 over the house, Newton inquired for a picture painted by himself, 
 and was told it was in the Duke's sitting-room, and could not be 
 shown without his permission. 
 
 I should here mention, that when this picture was exhibited 
 at the Academy, it was placed much higher than Newton liked ; 
 and he remarked that if it should be sold, the purchaser must 
 be a very tall man ; the Duke of Devonshire is above six 
 feet high. Newton was pleased to find that he kept it in the 
 room he most constantly occupied, and Wilkie said, " If there 
 
118 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VIII. 
 
 were a picture of mine here, I would not go away with- 
 out seeing it." The Duke, they were told, was out, but not 
 away from his own grounds, so they determined to look for him ; 
 but when they saw him at a distance, Wilkie hesitated, " The 
 Duke," he said, " will think we came for an invitation. He must 
 ask us to dine." 
 
 " We can decline," replied Newton. 
 
 " True," said Wilkie ; " but suppose he should not ask us ? " 
 And they went away without speaking to his Grace. 
 
 With Newton, Landseer, Callcott, and myself, Wilkie had 
 passed a few days in a visit to the Duke and Duchess of Bedford 
 at Woburn, and as he and I had engagements that called us to 
 town before the party broke up, he proposed that we should post 
 home together, to which I very gladly agreed. The uninter- 
 rupted conversation by this means enjoyed with him was de- 
 lightful, and highly as I had previously thought of him, raised 
 him still higher in my estimation. He spoke of many of our 
 mutual friends and acquaintances with equal judgment and good 
 feeling, and whenever he touched on art, I felt that I was listening 
 to a rare and an original minded man. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that Wilkie, having made himself a 
 great name, could pass through life without detraction, and he 
 was accused of bowing rather too low to rank. He certainly 
 had a sufficient respect for the aristocracy, among whom he had 
 found many sincere and liberal friends ; but I never heard of his 
 really degrading himself by servility; and I know* that, where his 
 art was concerned, he would not give up a point that he thought 
 of consequence in deference to the opinions or wishes of people 
 of title. When he painted " George IV. entering Holyrood 
 House," he had a good deal of difficulty respecting matters of 
 costume with the Duke of Argyle, whose fine face and figure are 
 conspicuous in that picture. The duke, among other things, pro- 
 tested strongly against the round Highland shield, because he had 
 not carried one on the occasion ; but Wilkie, who wanted its form 
 in the composition, persisted in retaining it. So when he was en- 
 gaged on one of his last pictures, — " The Queen's First Council," 
 — he told me that Mr. Croker made so many objections < to this 
 and that in the composition, " that," said Wilkie, " though I don't 
 
CHAP. VIII.] 
 
 WILKIE'S LETTERS. 
 
 119 
 
 like to have words with any man, I was really obliged to have 
 words with Mm" Mr. Croker, it is true, did not belong to the 
 aristocracy, but he had so much influence in high circles, and 
 particularly in circles in which Wilkie has always stood well, that 
 to oppose him in opinion was quite as bold as to oppose any no- 
 bleman, or even bolder. 
 
 The different estimates which Constable and Wilkie formed of 
 the value of public opinion, arose naturally from the treatment 
 each met with from the public ; — Wilkie being, from the com- 
 mencement of his career, as popular as Constable was the reverse, 
 it was natural that the one should think more favourably of pub- 
 lic opinion than the other. Still I fear Constable was the nearer 
 to a right judgment in this matter. Wilkie, in one of his pub- 
 lished letters, says, " The applause of the exquisite few, is better 
 than that of the ignorant many. But I like to reverse received 
 maxims ; give me the many who have admired in different ages 
 Raphael and Claude." But have the many, in any age, admired 
 Raphael and Claude ? I certainly believe not. Their reputa- 
 tions are established, and everybody, therefore, speaks alike con- 
 cerning them, as all Englishmen do of Shakespeare. But can we 
 suppose that the public, without their guide books or other direc- 
 tions, would ever find out that the Cartoons are, beyond all com- 
 parison, the most valuable works of art at Hampton Court, — 
 or that they would go at once to the St. Ursula of Claude in the 
 National Gallery, as to the finest picture there of its class, with- 
 out being told that it is ? I am as sure they would not, as I am 
 sure that when John Kemble was playing Hamlet or Brutus, 
 those personations were not felt by the public to be above his 
 Rolla — I mean the characters themselves — for, could his audi- 
 ence have been made to believe " Pizarro " to be the work of 
 Shakespeare, they would have received it with all the reverence 
 due to his name. In the diary of Cooke, the actor, is the fol- 
 lowing : " The general veneration for Shakespeare is a nominal 
 one ; his faults are, by the million, esteemed, and his beauties 
 little understood." 
 
 All that can be said is, that genius in some of its forms is 
 more understood by the public than in some others; that Ra- 
 
120 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. VIII. 
 
 phael's wq,rks are addressed to a larger class than Michael 
 Angelo's ; and that Shakespeare is more read than Milton. 
 
 Wilkie's works were popular from the first, because the public 
 could understand his subjects, and natural expression is always 
 responded to. But the beauty of his composition, the truth of 
 his effects, the taste of his execution, were no more felt by the 
 multitude than such qualities are felt in any class of painting, by 
 any but those whose perceptions of art are cultivated. There 
 can be no stronger proof of this than the fact that the companion 
 prints, designed by Burnet, to one or two of Wilkie's subjects, 
 were just as popular as his ; indeed, the engraving from Wilkie's 
 picture of the Chelsea pensioner reading to his companions the 
 news from Waterloo, was less liked, as I was told by the pub- 
 lishers, and had a less extensive sale than its companion the 
 Greenwich pensioners. An artist must belong to the multitude 
 to please the multitude. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Wellington Statue — Westmacott, the Sculptor — A Sea-Captain's Stories 
 — Etty, the Academician — Sir Robert Peel — Sir Martin Shee — Visit to 
 Paris — President Eastlake — The Great Exhibition. 
 
 " Office of Woods, &c, October, 1846. 
 " Lord Morpeth presents his compliments to Mr. Les- 
 lie, and would feel extremely obliged to him if he would be good 
 enough to give him the benefit of his judgment upon the appear- 
 ance and effect of the Statue of the Duke of Wellington in its 
 present position upon the Triumphal Arch on Constitution Hill. 
 
 " Lord Morpeth feels that the distinction implied in Mr. Les- 
 lie's being a member of the Royal Academy must be his warrant 
 for the trouble which he thus ventures to give. 
 " Charles R. Leslie, Esq., &c. &c." 
 
 When the Wellington statue was placed, upon trial, on the 
 arch opposite Apsley House, and the general opinion, as far as 
 it could be ascertained by the Press, was strongly manifested 
 against its remaining there, Lord Morpeth (now Earl of Carlisle), 
 who was at that time the Chief Commissioner of the Woods and 
 Forests, wrote letters to all the Academicians, before any part of 
 the scaffolding was removed, requesting to have their opinions on 
 the matter. The question asked of us had nothing to do with 
 the merits or demerits of Mr. Wyatt's work, but related merely 
 to its situation ; and, with but one or two exceptions, we all 
 agreed in recommending its removal. In my reply to Lord Mor- 
 peth, after remarking that I thought that place not only injurious 
 to the effect of the statue itself, but to all the architectural objects 
 about it, I added : " There is another reason entirely distinct from 
 these, and one that appears to me a sufficient ground of itself for 
 the removal of the statue. It seems to me to be an act of great 
 
122 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IX. 
 
 injustice to any artist who has executed an approved public work 
 to allow any alteration to be made in his design, or any feature 
 to be added to it, unless with his concurrence ; and I understand 
 that very strong objections from the gentleman who designed the 
 arch have not prevented the statue with its pedestal from being 
 placed on his work." 
 
 Some of the members of the Academy evaded a distinct reply 
 to Lord Morpeth, by stating that they could not judge fairly of 
 its appearance in consequence of the scaffolding that so closely 
 surrounded it. The scaffolding was then partially removed, and 
 his Lordship addressed a second letter to each. In that which I 
 received I was asked whether I now saw any reason to alter my 
 opinion. I replied that I did not ; and, I believe, that in no in- 
 stance was any objection that had previously been felt to placing 
 the statue on the arch done away by the removal of the scaffold- 
 ing. There, however, it remains — to the disgrace of the age. 
 A Frenchman, on seeing it, said, " France is now avenged for the 
 Battle of Waterloo." 
 
 The gigantic bronze cast in Hyde Park is an equal disgrace to 
 the taste of the nation. Will it be believed by posterity that 
 Flaxman was living when Westmacott was employed to waste the 
 brass of the cannon captured by the Duke on a cast from an an- 
 tique figure that could not, in any way, be made to allude to any 
 event in the Duke's history ? The action of the figure is that of 
 retreat. And then the bad taste of casting the figure without the 
 horse, and of putting a shield on the upraised arm, when the 
 action of the hand proves that that arm could not have held a 
 shield ! 
 
 In the year 1844 or '45, Mr. Smirk died. I visited him not 
 long before his death. He was upwards of ninety, and in perfect 
 possession of all his faculties ; indeed, he might pass for a man 
 under eighty. Even then he amused himself with painting, *and, 
 though he did not show his last productions, I was told they dis- 
 played no signs of imbecility. He talked most agreeably, and 
 told me he was old enough to have known a man who, in his 
 youth, had known William Vandervelde when he was in England, 
 and this man told him that Vandervelde used to go to Hampstead 
 Heath to study skies. 
 
CHAP. IX.] 
 
 A SEA-CAPTAIN'S STOEIES. 
 
 123 
 
 One very agreeable result of our visit to America, in 1833, 
 was its making us acquainted with Captain Morgan, whose friend- 
 ship has been among our greatest enjoyments. I have known 
 very few men so constantly agreeable, for his intelligence and 
 sense are equal to his cheerfulness, and that is unceasing. He 
 may not be always so happy as he appears, for no man can be, 
 but he seems to consider it a duty to be always cheerful. 
 
 Our delightful friend had a good story d propos to everything 
 that happened. As a specimen, I will put clown one of his amus- 
 ing inventions. 
 
 Single ladies often cross the water under the especial care of 
 the captain of the ship, and if a love affair occurs among the pas- 
 sengers, the captain is usually the confidante of one or both par- 
 ties. A very fascinating young lady was placed under Morgan's 
 care, and three young gentlemen fell desperately in love with her. 
 They were all equally agreeable, and the young lady was puzzled 
 which to encourage. She asked the captain's advice. " Come 
 on deck," he said, " the first day when it is perfectly calm — the 
 gentlemen will, of course, all be near you. I will have a boat 
 quietly lowered down ; then do you jump overboard and see 
 which of the gentlemen will be the first to jump after you. I will 
 take care of you." 
 
 A calm day soon came, the captain's suggestion was followed, 
 and two of the lovers jumped after the lady at the same instant. 
 But between these two the lady could not decide, so exactly equal 
 had been their devotion. She again consulted the captain. 
 " Take the man that didn't jump ; — he's the most sensible fellow, 
 and will make the best husband." 
 
 Morgan had often noticed, in our walks together, that no 
 shepherd's dog we ever met had a tail. I had told him they 
 were born without tails, and that Bewick was my authority. Still 
 he would not believe it ; and meeting a shepherd, and having laid 
 a wager on the result of his answer, Morgan put the question 
 thus : " At what age do you cut these dogs' tails ? " " About 
 eight or nine months." I submitted. But " No," said Morgan, 
 " you give up too soon ; much depends on how a question is put. 
 That man possibly knows nothing of the matter, but he would 
 not appear ignorant. His answer, therefore, does not prove that 
 
124 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IX. 
 
 you are wrong. If I had asked him if the dogs were born 
 without tails, perhaps he would have said yes." 
 
 When at sea with Captain Morgan, I said : " In such a ship as 
 this, and with such a captain as you, there seems to me to be no 
 risk but from fire, and that, at sea, must be fearful." * 
 
 " And it is at sea only," he said, " that I never fear fire. As 
 soon as I land, and find myself in a hotel, I can't sleep for a night 
 or two, for fear of being burned. "We are very strict about lights 
 in the ship, and, though the rules may be broken, there are 
 always people awake in every part of the vessel. If some of 
 the steerage passengers will smoke, contrary to orders, there are 
 timid ones who lie awake to watch them. No ; you are safer at 
 sea than anywhere else." 
 
 June 9th, 1849. — To-day I had the gratification of seeing the 
 principal works of my old friend and fellow-student, William 
 Etty, collected in the great room of the Society of Arts, in the 
 Adelphi. 
 
 Etty was in the room, and on my saying I was delighted to see 
 him so surrounded, he said, "by my children." I might have 
 farther congratulated him on having so large and fine a family of 
 daughters. There can be no doubt but that to these daughters, 
 and to the unreserved manner in which their charms are dis- 
 played, much of his popularity may be attributed. Still there is 
 often far more that is objectionable indicated in a single female 
 face by Greuze, where the figure is entirely draped, than in all 
 the nudities of Etty, whose mind was anything but a gross one. 
 Not that his choice of subject, in many instances, is in any degree 
 more defensible than that of Titian, of Correggio, or of Rubens. 
 
 But the excuses that may be offered for those great painters, 
 when treading on forbidden ground, — namely, that they elevated 
 their subjects, instead of allowing their subjects to debase their 
 art, — may, in a great degree, be advanced for Etty ; though in 
 many respects his taste is much below theirs, excepting always in 
 his colour, which is sufficiently fine in its own way to place him 
 beside them. And yet he commenced his practice in a school 
 unpropitious to colour, — that of Lawrence. 
 
 * This was before the days of steamboats. Now the great risk is from colli- 
 sions, which never happened then. 
 
CHAP. IX.] 
 
 ETTY, THE ACADEMICIAN. 
 
 125 
 
 The impression made on me by this exhibition, and which, 
 from all that I heard in the room, was the general impression on 
 my brother painters, was that the pictures that had pleased 
 formerly, now pleased still more, and those we had least liked 
 gained on ns. 
 
 Up to the time at which Etty was elected an associate of the 
 Royal Academy, he had attended the Life-School with more 
 regularity than any other student. It was supposed that, on be- 
 coming a full member, he would discontinue this habit, and some 
 of the old Academicians thought he ought to give it up. I told 
 him what I had heard on the subject, and he replied, " I do not 
 mean to leave off studying in the Life- Academy. It fills up a 
 couple of hours in the evening that I should find myself at a loss 
 to employ otherwise. I am very fond of it, nor do I think it 
 beneath the dignity of any rank to which my brethren may think 
 fit to raise me. I hope I shall never disgrace the Academy by 
 my conduct ; but if my continuing to paint in the Life-School is 
 considered wrong, let them not make me an Academician, for I 
 will not give it up." 
 
 Nor did he discontinue the practice until compelled to do so by 
 the state of his health, no doubt impaired by so regularly breath- 
 ing the heated atmosphere of our ill-ventilated school-room. 
 
 As a member of the Academy, his conduct was invariably 
 marked by the most unremitting and disinterested zeal for its 
 welfare and honour, which he always considered identical with 
 the general wellbeing of British art. 
 
 At our meetings he never spoke without a great effort, yet he 
 was never silent on any question in which he thought he could 
 serve the Academy. The first speech he made at a general 
 meeting was to propose a very useful measure, which he carried ; 
 but he was so nervous that he could scarcely articulate, and it was 
 painful to witness how much the effort cost him. He was warmly 
 thanked by the President. 
 
 There was a simplicity and sincerity in the manner of Etty 
 that attached his friends firmly to him, and I never heard that he 
 had an enemy. In speaking of his own life he compares it to a 
 long sunshiny holiday ; and, indeed, we need but look at his pro- 
 ductions, to feel sure that with him industry has never been 
 
126 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. IX. 
 
 labour. And yet I remember him at a time previous to the 
 existence of any work of his hand now in the Adelphi, when he 
 was looked on by some of his fellow-students as a worthy but dull 
 plodding person, who would never distinguish himself. I recollect 
 his making a pasticcio at the British Institution, from the Paul 
 Veronese, " The Communion of St. Nicholas," now in the 
 National Gallery, which he turned into an " Adoration of the 
 Magi," on which it was remarked that " it was very plain he was 
 not one of the Magi." 
 
 He died in the November that followed his exhibition. 
 
 In this year occurred the sad accident that terminated the life 
 of Sir Robert Peel. Within my recollection no death in England, 
 with the exception of that of the Princess Charlotte, had occa- 
 sioned such general sorrow as this unexpected event. The cases, 
 however, were widely different. The real character of the young 
 princess could only be imperfectly understood. But she was 
 looked to as the future sovereign, and being taken from the world 
 with her child at the time of its birth, her death could not but 
 excite an unusual degree of feeling throughout the country. Her 
 short life, however, from the privacy in which it had passed, had 
 as yet offered little more than promise. 
 
 On the contrary, the great talents of Peel had long been ad- 
 mired by his friends and admitted by his opponents, but his politi- 
 cal changes had subjected him to severe censure ; and though his 
 conduct and motives were beginning to be more justly appreciated 
 than they had been, it seemed that his real worth was far from 
 being fully felt till, at a time of life when his services might fairly 
 have been counted on for years to come, his country was suddenly 
 deprived of them. 
 
 It is much to be regretted that there is no portrait that does 
 him justice, for he had a fine head. Lawrence's half-length is the 
 best ; but in that the dress challenges equal attention with the 
 face. The late statues, busts, and pictures of him are miserable 
 things ; indeed, his face, like his conduct, has been subject to more 
 misrepresentation than has been the case with most public men. 
 Lawrence, by the emphasis which he laid on the tie of his cravat, 
 the velvet waistcoat, and the glittering watch-guard, made a dandy 
 of him. Now, though there were some peculiarities in his man- 
 
CHAP. IX.] 
 
 SIR MARTIN SHEE. 
 
 127 
 
 n er of dressing, Sir Robert Peel was so far from dandyism, that 
 George the Fourth (no incompetent judge) remarked that his 
 clothes never fitted him. The truth I believe to be, that the 
 King, though glad to avail himself of Peel's great talents, looked 
 on him as a plebeian, and therefore deficient in that taste, in small 
 as well as in great things, which is supposed by some to be the 
 birthright only of Royal or noble blood. 
 
 Sidney Smith related a pleasant invention illustrative of this, — 
 which represented Peel, when in the ministry, and on a visit at 
 the Brighton Pavilion, as called out of bed in the middle of the 
 night to attend his Majesty in what — his dinner having disagreed 
 with him in a very alarming manner — the King supposed to be 
 his last moments. Peel was much affected, and the King, after a 
 few words, which he could scarcely utter, said, " Go, my dear 
 Peel, — God bless you ! I shall never see you again : " and, as 
 Peel turned to leave the room, he added faintly, " Who made 
 that dressing-gown, my dear Peel ? It sits very badly behind. 
 God bless you, my dear fellow ! Never employ that tailor again." 
 
 Not long after the death of this admirable man, died one whose 
 conduct, in a much smaller, yet not unimportant sphere, was 
 marked by the same disinterested zeal for the interests committed 
 to him that at all times distinguished the great statesman. On 
 his own account, the death of Sir Martin Shee could not be 
 regretted, as it was the release, in old age, and from years of 
 suffering, of a faithful steward of all of which he had the care. 
 His devotion to the welfare of the Academy was never more 
 conspicuous than when he was examined by a committee of the 
 House of Commons, headed by Mr. Ewart, before which were 
 summoned all the enemies of the Academy, some of whom no 
 doubt from conscientious motives, and others perhaps from a mere 
 wish to pull down a body which had not admitted them among its 
 members, suggested the most impracticable and senseless changes. 
 I regret that I do not possess a copy of the minutes of evidence 
 before this notable committee. But the manner in which Sir 
 Martin there repelled every unjust accusation against the Acade- 
 my, — answered, in detail, every objection brought forward against 
 its constitution, — and exposed the absurdity of the proposed plans 
 for its amendment, does equal honour to his courage and his judg- 
 
128 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. IX. 
 
 ment. And he was well supported by the secretary and keeper, 
 Howard and Hilton ; who, though they could not vie with him in 
 eloquence, went fully along with him in zeal for the cause they 
 were called on to defend. 
 
 One word more about Sir Martin Shee. At the first Academy 
 dinner, at which he took the chair as President, Lord Holland 
 and Lord Grey sat next each other. After Shee's first address 
 to the company, Lord Holland said to his neighbour, " I never 
 heard a better speech." " And I," said Lord Grey, " never heard 
 so good a one." 
 
 In August, 1850, my wife and I, with our daughter Mary, 
 visited Oxford and Blenheim, with a party of friends, among 
 whom were Mr. Doyle (H. B.), and his son Richard, the ad- 
 mirable artist of " Pipps's Diary " and " Brown, Jones, and Rob- 
 inson." 
 
 While looking at the collection of pictures, not remarkable for 
 their excellence, belonging to Christ Church College, a gentleman 
 in a gown and cap, accompanied by two ladies, passed through the 
 gallery. " That is Dr. Pusey," whispered our guide. " He has 
 gone up into the library : you can go up." This, however, we 
 did not choose to do, immediately ; but, after looking at all the 
 pictures, in the vain hope of finding something good, we ascended 
 to the library, where the Doctor was writing at a window in the 
 centre of the room. " He will turn round directly, and then you 
 will see his face," said our guide. This happened accordingly ; 
 and when the doctor left the room, we were shown his autograph, 
 in the book in which volumes borrowed are entered. It seemed, 
 indeed, as if we had come on a pilgrimage to Oxford, as the resi- 
 dence of Dr. Pusey ; for another of the guides asked if we wished 
 to see the house in which he lived, and was astonished to find we 
 did not care to go out of our way for it. 
 
 Towards the end of September in this year, I was in Paris for 
 a week with my daughter Mary. The best part of the Louvre 
 being closed, in consequence of alterations and repairs (for the 
 French, whatever form of Government may prevail, do not neg- 
 lect the arts,) I spent more time than I had done when last in 
 Paris in the gardens and streets, and was more than ever struck 
 with the architectural beauty of Paris. How generally dingy, 
 
CHAP. IX.] 
 
 VISIT TO PARIS. 
 
 129 
 
 low, and tasteless do the houses in London appear on a return 
 from Paris ! How heavy and cumbrous where ornament is at- 
 tempted, either on house or shop fronts ! And how disagreeable 
 to the eye is the dirty drab that so much prevails in London, and 
 which, under the name of stone-colour, so soon degenerates, by 
 the aid of the smoke, into the colour of mud ! In Paris you see 
 pure white or grey ; and where tints are used, which is always 
 sparingly, pale reds, blues, yellows, or greens ; but I never ob- 
 served drabs. 
 
 On our return to England we spent a week at Sandgate, at the 
 house of my old friend James Foster. While there I saw, for 
 the first time in my life, a lunar rainbow. Looking towards 
 Folkestone, the light of the rising moon was visible, though her 
 orb was hidden from us by the cliffs ; and on turning in the op- 
 posite direction the bow appeared partly over the sea. The arch 
 was nearly perfect, and, as the moon had but just risen, almost a 
 semicircle ; and there seemed a very faint appearance of an out- 
 ward arch. I remarked, as we often see it in the solar bow, that 
 the mist on which it appeared was of a uniformly darker shade 
 outside of the arch. The prismatic colours were not perceptible 
 to my eye, but it appeared of a soft pale light, nearly white. It 
 seemed the ghost of a magnificent double bow which I had seen 
 in the morning, not very far from the same place in the heavens. 
 
 On the 4th of November, this year, Eastlake was elected 
 President of the Academy. He had long been considered by 
 most of the members as pre-eminently qualified for this high 
 office ; while, at the same time, it was well known to most of us 
 that he did not desire it. Sir Martin Shee died in August ; and 
 the reason why so long an interval was allowed to pass before the 
 election of a President, was that many members were out of 
 town, and it was desirable that the meeting for the election should 
 be as full as possible. The vacancy occurred at a time of the 
 year when the Academy was least occupied with business that re- 
 quired a chairman, and it was proposed by Eastlake himself that 
 the choice should be deferred till we assembled in November to 
 elect associates, when it was likely most of the academicians 
 would be present. There were many discussions among the 
 members, who, like myself, were anxious for Eastlake's election. 
 9 
 
130 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. E. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. IX. 
 
 It was thought by some, that it would be best to ascertain before- 
 hand whether he would accept the presidency in case of a majori- 
 ty in his favour ; but others, and I with them, feared that this 
 might draw from him a refusal, to which he might feel bound to 
 adhere, even if circumstances should afterwards occur to induce 
 him to change his mind. Edwin Landseer was in Scotland in 
 the autumn, and at Balmoral, where he heard the Queen and 
 Prince Albert express a hope that the choice of the Academy 
 would fall on Eastlake. As Landseer knew that these wishes 
 would have great weight with him, he sent me a note, written to 
 him by Colonel Phipps, stating how highly agreeable it would be 
 to the Queen and the Prince that Eastlake should be placed at 
 the head of the Academy. Landseer authorised me to make 
 whatever use I thought best of this note ; and I sent it to East- 
 lake a short time before the election, begging him not to reply 
 to me unless he could reply as he must well know was de- 
 sired by most of the members of the Academy. Until he saw 
 Colonel Phipps's note, I have no doubt he had determined to de- 
 cline the chair. There were, of course, some persons dissatisfied 
 with his election, as is always the case in every such event ; and 
 they and their friends affected to lament that the members of the 
 Academy had been influenced in their choice by the expressed 
 wishes of royalty. But the note I sent to Eastlake was seen only 
 by. him. No other member of the Academy, excepting Landseer, 
 his brother, and myself, knew of it ; and we had determined to 
 vote for him, whenever the vacancy should occur, long before we 
 knew how acceptable the choice would be to the Queen. Im- 
 mediately on his election, the sum of 300/. per annum, which had 
 for some years been given to Sir Martin Shee, was voted to the 
 President, until the bequest of Sir Francis Chantrey of that sum 
 annually to the office should come into effect. This was unpala- 
 table to some of the academicians, who considered it undignified 
 that the President of the Royal Academy should be paid for his 
 services ; a view, I confess, entirely opposite to that which I take 
 of the matter. In the first place, 300/. is no payment for the 
 time and money the President is now called on to expend in the 
 service of the Academy ; and, in the second, it seems to me that 
 it would be much less dignified in that body, to allow a distin- 
 
CHAP. IX.] 
 
 THE GREAT EXHIBITION. 
 
 131 
 
 guislied artist to make the great sacrifices he must make, for the 
 benefit of the institution, wholly without compensation. 
 
 The rare qualities essential to the President of such a body 
 may possibly be found united in a man who is by no means rich. 
 Sir Martin Shee undertook what he could not afford; and the 
 Academy, very properly, during the last years of his life, gave 
 him what ought to have been given him at first. They must 
 have strange notions of dignity who would call this conduct un- 
 dignified. 
 
 On the evening of the election, before we proceeded to vote, 
 I gave notice that I should propose at the next meeting that the 
 sum voted annually to Sir Martin Shee should be continued to 
 his successor ; and when the time came this was agreed to with- 
 out opposition. Having taken an active part in these matters, I 
 think it right to leave some record of the facts. 
 
 At the election, the votes were for Eastlake, 26 ; for Edwin 
 Landseer, 1 ; for Pickersgill, 1 ; and for Jones, 2. 
 
 The month of May, 1851, will remain memorable on account 
 of the opening of the Great Exhibition of the Industry of all 
 Nations, in Hyde Park — an event, the success of which has so 
 greatly surpassed expectation and falsified prophecy. 
 
 Soon after the Exhibition was opened, I was informed that I 
 had been nominated a juryman for the American Commission. I 
 concluded, as a matter of course, that the jury on which my name 
 was placed were to decide on the merits of works of art ; but 
 when I took my seat at the board, I found myself entirely 
 among strangers — ordinary -looking men, at least, such at the 
 first glance, they appeared to me. I soon found, however, they 
 were discussing matters of science; and, on looking round the 
 table again, their looks improved. It then occurred to me to refer 
 to the voluminous catalogue, which I had found of little use in 
 the Exhibition, and in the last page of it I discovered my own 
 name in the list of Jury, Class X, of which Sir David Brewster 
 was chairman ; and among it the members were Sir John Her- 
 schel, Baron Seguier, Professor Potter, and other eminent men ; 
 and I found also by my catalogue, that I was to decide, with these 
 gentlemen, on the merits of " Philosophical, Musical, Horological, 
 and Surgical Instruments." 
 
132 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. IX. 
 
 I sat out the meeting, determined to resign a situation for 
 which I was unfit. I listened to discussions on matters of which 
 I was wholly ignorant, and came away with the impression that 
 the gentlemen round the table were remarkably wise-looking 
 men — so true it is that the character is rarely seen in the face 
 at the first acquaintance, and never so truly seen as when we 
 know it beforehand. The maid-servant of the Misses Cotterell 
 who mistook Dr. Johnson for a robber, is not to be too hastily 
 censured. 
 
 On inquiring of the Commissioners why I had been nominated 
 upon such a jury, I was told it was because they could think of 
 no other resident in London connected with America but me ; 
 and that I might be of use by drawing the attention of the jury 
 to objects which in the enormous collection might by chance es- 
 cape their notice. It was earnestly wished that I should continue 
 to serve, and I therefore did so; not sorry to have frequent 
 opportunities of sitting at the same table with my distinguished 
 colleagues. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Turner — Turner and Ruskin — Turner's Pictures — Sir Charles Eastlake — 
 Landseer — The Engravers of England — Wilkie's Prints — Engraving 
 Auctioneers. 
 
 On the 19th of December in this year died the greatest painter 
 
 of the time, by some thought the greatest of all the English 
 
 painters. By many, however, and perhaps by the best judges, 
 
 Turner will be placed in that class 
 
 " whose genius is such 
 That we never can praise it or blame it too much." 
 
 The artists, with scarcely an exception, had, from the begin- 
 ning of his career, done him justice. But he passed through life 
 little noticed by the aristocracy (Lord Egremont being, as he had 
 been in the case of Flaxman, the principal exception), and never 
 by Royalty. Callcott and other painters, immeasurably below 
 him, were knighted ; and, whether Turner desired such a dis- 
 tinction or not, I think it probable he was hurt by its not having 
 been offered to him. Probably, also, he expected to fill the chair 
 of the Academy, on the death of Sir Martin Shee ; but, greatly 
 as his genius would have adorned it, on almost every other ac- 
 count he was incapable of occupying it with credit to himself or 
 to the institution, for he was a confused speaker, and wayward 
 and peculiar in many of his opinions, and expected a degree of 
 deference on account of his age and high standing as a painter, 
 which the members could not invariably pay him, consistently 
 with the interests of the Academy and of the Arts. 
 
 Having said that he received but little notice from the nobility, 
 with the exception of much patronage from Lord Egremont, I 
 must not omit to mention that he painted one of his largest and 
 grandest pictures for Lord Yarborough, and another, as fine, for 
 
134 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. X. 
 
 the Marquis of Stafford. Mr. Rogers, with less means of pat- 
 ronage, was always his great admirer, and has associated his 
 name with that of Turner in one of the most beautifully illus- 
 trated volumes that has ever appeared. 
 
 It is remarkable that the poet was equally the friend and ad- 
 mirer of Flaxman and Stothard, while the titled and wealthy of 
 the country lost for themselves the honour of connecting them- 
 selves with names that will probably outlive their own. 
 
 Sir George Beaumont was a sincere friend to the Arts, but in 
 many things a mistaken one. He was right in his patronage of 
 Wilkie and of Haydon, but he ridiculed Turner, whom he en- 
 deavoured to talk down. He did the same with respect to Stot- 
 hard, and though personally very friendly to Constable, he never 
 seems to have had much perception of his extraordinary genius. 
 
 In the year 1822, Constable thus wrote : " The art will go out : 
 there will be no genuine painting in England in thirty years." 
 And it is remarkable that, within a few months of the date • thus 
 specified, Turner should have died, almost literally fulfilling, as 
 some of his admirers may think, Constable's prophecy. 
 
 It is difficult to judge of the condition of Art in our own time ; 
 but I think it cannot be denied that painting is in a much lower 
 state in this country now than in the year 1822. At that time 
 Stothard, Fuseli, Wilkie, Turner, Lawrence, Owen, Jackson, 
 Constable, and Etty were living, James Ward was in the full 
 possession of his great powers, as were also most among the 
 present eminent painters. But those who have since come for- 
 ward, however they may hereafter rank, cannot, I think, at pres- 
 ent be considered as forming anything like such an assemblage 
 of excellence, as the English school could boast of thirty years 
 ago. 
 
 Turner was very amusing on the varnishing, or rather the 
 painting days, at the Academy. Singular as were his habits, for 
 nobody knew where or how he lived, his nature was social, and 
 at our lunch on those anniversaries, he was the life of the table. 
 The Academy has relinquished, very justly, a privilege for its 
 own members which it could not extend to all exhibitors. But I 
 believe, had the varnishing days been abolished while Turner 
 lived, it would almost have broken his heart. When such a 
 
CHAP. X.] 
 
 TURNER. 
 
 135 
 
 measure was hinted to him, he said, " Then you will do away 
 with the only social meetings we have, the only occasions on 
 which we all come together in an easy unrestrained manner. 
 When we have no varnishing days we shall not know one 
 another." 
 
 In 1832, when Constable exhibited his " Opening of Waterloo 
 Bridge," it was placed in the school of painting — one of the 
 small rooms at Somerset House. A sea-piece, by Turner, was 
 next to it — a grey picture, beautiful and true, but with, no 
 positive colour in any part of it. Constable's " Waterloo " seemed 
 as if painted with liquid gold and silver, and Turner came several 
 times into the room while he was heightening with vermilion and 
 lake the decorations and flags of the city barges. Turner stood 
 behind him, looking from the " Waterloo " to his own picture, 
 and at last brought his palette from the great room where he was 
 touching another picture, and putting a round daub of red lead, 
 somewhat bigger than a shilling, on his grey sea, went away 
 without saying a word. The intensity of the red lead, made 
 more vivid by the coolness of his picture, caused even the ver- 
 milion and lake of Constable to look weak. I came* into the 
 room just as Turner left it. " He has been here," said Con- 
 stable, " and fired a gun." On the opposite wall was a picture, 
 by Jones, of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the furnace. 
 "A coal," said Cooper, "has bounced across the room from 
 Jones's picture, and set fire to Turner's sea." The great man 
 did not come again into the room for a day and a half ; and then, 
 in the last moments that were allowed for painting, he glazed the 
 scarlet seal he had put on his picture, and shaped it into a 
 buoy. 
 
 In finishing the " Waterloo Bridge " Constable used the palette 
 knife more than the pencil. He found it the only instrument by 
 which he could express, as he wished, the sparkle of the water. 
 
 Parsimonious as were Turner's habits, he was not a miser. It 
 was often remarked, that he had never been known to give a 
 dinner. But when dining with a large party at Blackwall, the 
 bill, a heavy one, being handed to Chantrey (who headed the 
 table), he threw it to Turner by way of joke, and Turner paid it, 
 and would not allow the company to pay their share. I know, 
 
136 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. X. 
 
 also, that he refused large offers for his " Temeraire," because 
 he intended to leave it to the nation. 
 
 Like Sir Joshua Reynolds, he avoided expressing his opinions 
 of living artists. I never heard him praise any living painter 
 but Stothard ; neither did I ever hear him disparage any living 
 painter, nor any living man. 
 
 Mr. Ruskin, in a lecture he delivered at Edinburgh, draws a 
 touching picture of the neglect and loneliness in which Turner 
 died.* This picture, however, must lose much of its intended 
 effect when it is known that such seclusion was Turner's own 
 fault. No death-bed could be more surrounded by attentive 
 friends than his might have been, had he chosen to let his friends 
 know where he lived. He had constantly dinner invitations, which 
 he seldom even answered, but appeared at the table of the inviter 
 or not as it suited him. His letters were addressed to him at his 
 house in Queen Ann Street ; but the writers never knew where 
 he really resided. It may well be supposed that a man so rich, 
 advanced in life, and, as was thought, without near relations, 
 should be much courted. He had for many years quoted in the 
 Academy* catalogues a MS. poem, "The Fallacies of Hope;" 
 and I believe that among his papers such a MS., though not 
 in poetic form, was found by some of his friends to be his 
 will. 
 
 I am very far from supposing that Mr. Ruskin belonged to this 
 class of Turner's friends ; for I have not a doubt that his enthu- 
 siastic admiration of his art and mind was genuine ; and expressed 
 with no other feeling of self-interest than the pride of being known 
 to be capable of appreciating him. 
 
 It is greatly to be regretted that Turner never would sit for a 
 portrait, excepting when he was a young man, and then only for 
 a profile drawing by Dance. This is, therefore, the only satis- 
 factory likeness of him extant. 
 
 It happened, of course, as with every eminent man, that as 
 soon as he was dead the shop-windows exhibited wretched libels 
 
 * " Cut off, in great part," says Mr. Ruskin, " from all society, first by 
 labour, and last by sickness, hunted to his grave by the malignity of small 
 critics and the jealousies of hopeless rivalry, he died in the house of a 
 stranger." 
 
4 CHAP. X.] 
 
 TURNER'S PICTURES. 
 
 137 
 
 on his face and figure, the most execrable of which was from a 
 sketch by Count D'Orsay. 
 
 Turner was short and stout, and he had a sturdy sailor-like 
 walk. There was, in fact, nothing elegant in his appearance, full 
 of elegance as he was in art ; he might be taken for the captain 
 of a river steamboat at a first glance ; but a second would find 
 far more in his face than belongs to any ordinary mind. There 
 was that peculiar keenness of expression in his eye that is only 
 seen in men of constant habits of observation. His voice was 
 deep and musical, but he was the most confused and tedious 
 speaker I ever heard. In careless conversation he often ex- 
 pressed himself happily, and he was very playful: at a dinner 
 table nobody more joyous. He was, as I have said, a social man 
 in his nature ; and it is probable that his recluse manner of living 
 arose very much from the strong wish, which every artist must 
 feel, to have his time entirely at his own command. 
 
 It fell to my lot to select the first of his pictures that went to 
 America. Mr. James Lenox, of New York, who knew his 
 works only from engravings, wished very much to possess one, 
 and wrote to me to that effect. I replied, that his rooms were 
 full of unsold works, and I had no doubt he would part with one. 
 Mr. Lenox expressed his willingness to give 500/., and left the 
 choice to me. I called on Turner, and asked if he would let a 
 picture go to America. " No ; they won't come up to the scratch." 
 I knew what he meant, for another American had offered him a 
 low price for the " Temeraire." I told him a friend of mine 
 would give 500/. for anything he would part with. His counte- 
 nance brightened, and he said at once, " He may have that, or 
 that, or that," — pointing to three not small pictures. I chose a 
 sunset view of Staffa, which I had admired more than most of his 
 works from the time when it was first exhibited. It was in an 
 old frame, but Turner would have a very handsome new one 
 made for it. When it reached New York, Mr. Lenox was out of 
 town ; and we were in suspense some time about its reception. 
 About a fortnight after its arrival he returned to New York, but 
 only for an hour, and wrote to me, after a first hasty glance, to 
 express his great disappointment. He said he could almost fancy 
 the picture had sustained some damage on the voyage, it ap- 
 
138 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. X. 
 
 peared to him so indistinct throughout. Still he did not doubt 
 its being very fine, and he hoped to see its merits on farther 
 acquaintance ; but for the present he could not write to Mr. Tur- 
 ner, as he could only state his present impression. 
 
 Unfortunately, I met Turner, at the Academy, a night or two 
 after I received this letter, and he asked if I had heard from Mr. 
 Lenox. I was obliged to say yes. 
 
 " Well, and how does he like the picture ? " 
 
 " He thinks it irfdistinct." 
 
 " You should tell him," he replied, " that indistinctness is my 
 fault." 
 
 In the meantime, I had answered Mr. Lenox's letter, pointing 
 out, as well as I could, the merits of the picture, and concluded 
 by saying, " If, on a second view, it gains in your estimation, it 
 will assuredly gain more and more every time you look at it." 
 Mr. Lenox, in reply, said, " You have exactly described what has 
 taken place, I now admire the picture greatly, and I have brought 
 one or two of my friends to see it as I do, but it will never be a 
 favourite with the multitude. I can now write to Mr. Turner, 
 and tell him conscientiously how much I am delighted with it." 
 
 Mr. Lenox soon afterwards came to London, and bought an- 
 other picture of Turner's, at a sale, and, I think, another of him- 
 self, and would have bought " The Temeraire," but Turner had 
 then determined not to sell it. 
 
 It was reported that Turner had declared his intention of being 
 buried in his " Carthage," the picture now in the National Gal- 
 lery. I was told that he said to Chantrey, " I have appointed 
 you one of my executors. Will you promise to see me rolled up 
 in it ? " " Yes," said Chantrey ; " and I promise you also that as 
 soon as you are buried I will see you taken up and unrolled." 
 
 This was very like Chantrey, and the story was so generally 
 believed, that when Turner died, and Dean Milman heard he was 
 to be buried in St. Paul's, he said, " I will not read the service 
 over him if he is wrapped up in that picture." 
 
 I have said Turner often expressed himself happily. I re- 
 member that when it was proposed that the new Houses of Par- 
 liament were to be decorated with pictures, he said, " Painting 
 can never show her nose in company with architecture but to 
 have it snubbed." 
 
CHAP. X.] 
 
 SIR CHARLES EASTLAKE. 
 
 139 
 
 How true this is ! No architect ever seems capable of under- 
 standing in what light, and at what distance, painting can be 
 seen ; and it is a great pity that first-rate art, either sculpture or 
 painting, should ever be employed in the decoration of architec- 
 ture. The Elgin Marbles were never seen till now, when they 
 are in ruins. The coarsest art would have as well ornamented 
 the Parthenon, and Lucca Giordano might have been better em- 
 ployed in decorating the Sistine Chapel and the chambers of the 
 Vatican than Michael Angelo and Raphael.* 
 
 An attempt has lately been made in Italy to rescue some of 
 the great works of art from the decay and injury to which they 
 are exposed in churches, but without success. I never saw an 
 altar-piece in a light in which it could be fairly seen. There are 
 always windows on each side, to say nothing of the picture being 
 too high, and the lower part generally hid by the decorations of 
 the altar. 
 
 In the year 1852, being, for the fourth time, one of the Coun- 
 cil of the Academy, I proposed that the exclusion of engravers 
 from the highest academic honours should be reconsidered. I 
 was induced to do so on account of a vacancy occurring in the 
 list of Associate engravers, by the death of Mr. Landseer, and I 
 hoped that an alteration of the laws of the Academy might be 
 effected before that vacancy should be filled up, so as to induce 
 * engravers of first-rate excellence to become candidates. 
 
 On a former occasion, when such an alteration was proposed, I 
 was among its opponents. But I had since reconsidered the 
 subject in all its relations to the arts and to the Academy, and, 
 having changed my opinion, was now anxious to repair my share 
 of what I considered the perseverance of the Academy in an 
 error committed at its formation. 
 
 I was farther encouraged to take up this matter by what fell 
 from Sir Charles Eastlake, at a council, upon the vacancy among 
 the Associate engravers being mentioned. He said : " I suppose 
 the question respecting the admission of engravers to the highest 
 honours of the Academy will, some time or other, be again brought 
 forward." I had before known that he was in favour of such a 
 
 * I should think few lovers of art would agree with Mr. Leslie in this 
 opinion. — Ed. 
 
140 MEMOIE OF C. E. LESLIE. [chap. x. 
 
 change, and the hint thus thrown out determined me to lose no 
 time in bringing the matter forward. 
 
 Sir Robert Strange attributed the exclusion of engravers from 
 among the Academicians to the determination to keep him out of 
 the Academy, he not being acceptable to the King on account of 
 his Jacobite principles. But I cannot believe that Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds and other eminent artists were not sincere in their opin- 
 ion that engraving should receive an inferior distinction to that 
 conferred on Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, because it is 
 an art not requiring inventive powers. 
 
 The Academicians were not, however, unanimous in this 
 opinion, for West spoke strongly in favour of placing engraving 
 on the same footing with the other arts, and Bartolozzi, though 
 he did paint a picture to entitle him to admission, owed his elec- 
 tion, in reality, only to his eminence as an engraver. The Society, 
 by this proceeding, practically acknowledged what their constitu- 
 tion denied. Whether or not this was done to appease the anger 
 of the engravers, many of whom were members of the society 
 out of which the Academy sprung, the inconsistency of the act 
 was very unfortunate. The engravers were only the more irri- 
 tated, and in the second year of its existence the Academy made 
 a second mistake in an alteration of its constitution, by which six 
 engravers were eligible to the rank of Associate only. 
 
 That this law was a mistake has been abundantly proved from* 
 its wording. For some time no candidate for the intended honour 
 could be induced to come forward ; and the first that offered him- 
 self was an artist eminent only as a seal-engraver to the King. 
 He was followed by an obscure foreigner, and eighteen years 
 elapsed before the entire number could be filled up, nor did 
 it then include any engraver who stood at the head of his pro- 
 fession. 
 
 In 1802 a vacancy occurred among the Associate engravers 
 which was not supplied till 1806, when the late Mr. Landseer 
 became a candidate, in the hope of influencing the Academicians 
 to change the law relating to his art. The same motive had pre- 
 viously induced James Heath to accept the diploma, and both ex- 
 erted themselves to promote such a change. 
 
 Mr. Landseer memorialised the Academy, and suggested that 
 
p 
 
 CHAP. X.] 
 
 THE ENGRAVERS OF ENGLAND. 
 
 141 
 
 four engravers should be made Academicians, and that a profes- 
 sorship of engraving should be established. 
 
 The advocates for a change of the law increased as years rolled 
 on, and among these Wilkie may be mentioned as one who pos- 
 sessed, more than any other painter, a practical knowledge of the 
 difficulties and requirements of the art of engraving. 
 
 The opponents to a change in the constitution of the Academy 
 favourable to engraving, have always laid much stress on the 
 wisdom of such men among its founders as Reynolds and Cham- 
 bers. But these eminent men might — could they have lived to 
 the present day — see cause to acknowledge their mistake, and 
 to place themselves among those now disposed to listen to the 
 opinions of the engravers. The Academy had reached its eighty- 
 fourth year, and, with very few exceptions, engravers of eminence 
 had not accepted the place it offered to them, while the list of dis- 
 tinguished engravers who have stood aloof from it is a large 
 one. 
 
 First on the list are the names of "Woollett, Strange, and 
 Schiavonetti, artists of unrivalled excellence, and to these may be 
 added the names of others who, if not so great, have yet done 
 much honour to the British school. Vivares, Medland, Charles 
 Warren, Raimbach, Charles Heath, William Finden, Le Keux, 
 George and William Cook, line-engravers ; Cardon, Agar, Scriven, 
 Jones, and Caroline Watson, chalk-engravers ; and Earlom, 
 M'Ardell, Fisher, and Reynolds, mezzotint-engravers. 
 
 A title for so long a time refused by the leading men of the 
 profession for which it was created could clearly be no honour. 
 If the Academy was not, after much experience, disposed to 
 confer a distinction on engraving, which those who practised it 
 best would accept, it seemed to me and others that it would be 
 more to the credit of the Institution to discontinue the offer of a 
 rank to engravers that was generally considered by them as an 
 insult. 
 
 The great battle was about the relative dignity of the art. 
 Whatever that may be, I cannot look at the best works of the 
 best engravers and not feel that they are the productions of 
 genius. If the Academy could be filled with artists like Rey- 
 nolds, Gainsborou $h, Wilson, Chambers, Banks, and Flaxman, 
 
142 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. X. 
 
 there would unquestionably be no room even for the best of en- 
 gravers. Bat it is most unfortunate for the Academy that such 
 persons as Baker, a flower painter; Chamberlain, a portrait 
 painter ; Hayman, a historical painter ; Richards, a scene 
 painter ; Meyer, an enamel painter ; Yeo, an architect ; and 
 many others now equally forgotten, were Academicians, when 
 men who have done so much honour and service to the Arts as 
 Strange, Woollett, and Sharpe, were not permitted to confer the 
 honour of their names upon it. 
 
 Nor was it only in the first years of the Institution that its 
 ranks were swelled by mediocre artists. Down to the present 
 day there have always been Academicians, whose diplomas would 
 have been more worthily bestowed upon first-rate engravers. 
 
 There have been such artists as Piranesi and Bewick, engravers 
 not only of consummate skill in the use of their tools, but posses- 
 sing great powers of invention and great fertility of imagination. 
 There have been such men, and there may be again, and under 
 its original constitution the Academy had no place for them. 
 
 When the proposed alteration was in the course of discussion, 
 I said I considered that England had produced the best engravers 
 in the world, and the Academy had treated them as if they were 
 the worst. Sir Richard Westmacott attributed the interest I took 
 in their cause to gratitude, and he was right. But the gratitude 
 I feel is not merely towards a few who have ably engraved some 
 of my pictures, but to the art itself. For I believe that in no 
 country have the other arts ever owed so much to engraving as 
 in England. 
 
 The greatest patron of painters that has appeared in this coun- 
 try, since the time of Charles I., was an engraver, who acquired 
 a fortune as a publisher, which he spent entirely in the encourage- 
 ment of art. It would take a long time to enumerate the magnif- 
 icent things done by Boydell during upwards of half a century ; 
 while all that was done within the same time for historic or poetic 
 art by the British aristocracy, may be stated very shortly — it 
 was next to nothing. 
 
 Had there been no such art as engraving, there would have 
 been no such patronage as Boydell's, which gave birth to some 
 of the greatest works of the British school ; and to this same art 
 
CHAP. X.] 
 
 WILKIE'S PRINTS. 
 
 of engraving it is scarcely too much to say we owe the very ex- 
 istence of Hogarth. His patrons were the million. The great 
 people were told by Walpole that he was no painter ; and Wal- 
 pole, being one of themselves, they believed him. But for engrav- 
 ing, therefore, Hogarth must have confined himself to portraits on 
 which he might have starved, for he was never popular as a por- 
 trait painter. But when the prints of " The Harlot's Progress " 
 appeared, 1200 copies were immediately subscribed for. This 
 was the beginning of the patronage produced for painting by 
 engraving. Its benefits appeared next in the case of Stothard, 
 who lived and died scarcely employed except by publishers, to 
 whom we owe the thousands of his enchanting conceptions now 
 so eagerly sought by collectors. 
 
 Even Wilkie would not have been what he was but for this art. 
 The prices he received for his finest pictures, at the time when he 
 painted but one a year, would never have enabled him to give 
 them their admirable finish, but for the remuneration he received 
 from his prints. It is remarkable (as illustrating the history of 
 patronage in England) that the Directors of the British Institu- 
 tion bought his " Distraining for Rent," and soon after put it in 
 their cellar, where it remained till Baimbach repurchased it for 
 the purpose of engraving — the right to do which had before 
 been refused by the Directors. The great excellence of this 
 picture had, at first, induced the Directors of the Institution to 
 buy it as soon as it was seen at Somerset House. But they were 
 afterwards frightened at what they had done, on its being sug- 
 gested that the subject was a satire on landlords, and the picture 
 was placed in a large dark lumber-room under the gallery, where 
 the students were allowed to wash their brushes. I saw it there ; 
 and told Young (the keeper) that if it remained long in so dark a 
 place it would turn yellow. He accordingly allowed it to be hung 
 in one of the upper rooms during the intervals between the ex- 
 hibitions. Washington Irving saw it there. I was present at 
 the time, and I remember that he stood for some minutes before 
 it without saying a word ; and, when he turned round, tears were 
 streaming down his cheeks. 
 
 Turner's large fortune was acquired very much through the 
 means of engraving ; nor has, what I cannot but call, the patron- 
 
144 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. x. 
 
 age of this art been extended to painting only. Flaxman, neg- 
 lected by the Court, the Government, and the aristocracy, was 
 enabled by engravers to spread all over the world those exquisite 
 conceptions which have supplied materials to less inventive sculp- 
 tors and painters of classical subjects. 
 
 Such are the grounds of my gratitude to the art of engraving. 
 I was told, however, that if painters owe much to this art, it owes 
 its very existence to them. True ; but the benefits between living 
 painters and engravers are not necessarily mutual. They can do 
 without us much better than we can do without them. They can, 
 as Strange did, employ themselves wholly, and with great advan- 
 tage to their reputations, on the works of the old masters. 
 
 The injustice of the original laws of the Academy towards 
 engravers was very remarkable. While painters, sculptors, and 
 architects were elected by painters, sculptors, and architects, no 
 engraver could be present at the election of a member of his own 
 profession. The choice was made by artists who had no practical 
 knowledge of the engraver's craft. Thus, while the Academy 
 offered to a profession what was considered no honour by most 
 who belong to it, the gift, to such as were willing to receive it, 
 carried less guarantee of merit than the gift of any other distinc- 
 tion in the Academy. 
 
 Eastlake was of opinion, and I entirely agreed with him, that 
 there always had been, and always would be, room among the 
 forty for a few first-rate engravers. The majority, however, 
 thought otherwise, and it was otherwise determined. But there 
 was one thing required of candidates for the engravers' associate- 
 ships to which I was strongly opposed, namely, that they should 
 exhibit original compositions, or drawings, from nature. This 
 part of the law appears to me so unreasonable, and so much 
 worse than useless, that I cannot but believe it will, sooner or 
 later, be rescinded. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 John Howard Payne — Hay don, the Painter — Haydon's Journal — Haydon's 
 character — The Chalons and Cattermole — British, French, and Ger- 
 man Schools — Dessin's Hotel — Peter Powell — Samuel Rogers — Rogers's 
 " Table Talk." 
 
 The " Autobiography of Haydon " recalls to mind my first ac- 
 quaintance with its author, then young and full of promise, in his 
 own eyes and in those of all who knew him, of great future 
 eminence. 
 
 But here I must digress to another early acquaintance, John 
 Howard Payne, whose career resembled Haydon's in its many 
 years of the extremest misery of debt, incurred by the bad 
 management of good natural talents. 
 
 The success of Master Betty, who, for a time, carried the pub- 
 lic away from Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, excited a youth in 
 America, like Betty, of handsome features and graceful manners, 
 and with a charming voice, to come forward as an American 
 Young Roscius. Master Payne, in a very short time realised a 
 small fortune by his personations of Borneo, Hamlet, Young 
 Norval, and the other characters in which Betty had attracted 
 such crowds in London. I saw him play Romeo in Philadel- 
 phia, and was perfectly delighted. Whether he equalled Betty 
 on the stage, I know not ; but he was superior to him off the 
 stage ; for while yet in his teens, he became the editor of a news- 
 paper or magazine — I forget which — and was a favourite as- 
 sociate of the foremost literary men in Boston, New York, and 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 I think it was in 1813 that Payne came to England to try his 
 fate on the London Boards. But he was no longer a boy ; and 
 as Betty lost his attractiveness with the growth of his beard, so it 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. XI. 
 
 was with Howard Payne. He played two or three nights at 
 Drury Lane, but with little applause, excepting from the Ameri- 
 can friends who mustered to support him. Mr. West was in a 
 stage-box, and I sat by his side. The old gentleman had not 
 been in a theatre for many years. He expressed himself pleased 
 with Payne, but he was delighted — and well he might be — 
 with Knight (the father of the present secretary of the Acade- 
 my), who played the principal character in the farce. 
 
 Though Payne failed as an actor, he afterwards acquired fame 
 as an author by his tragedy of " Brutus," in which Edmund 
 Kean thrilled the audience by his inimitable personation of the 
 hero. 
 
 Soon after his arrival in England, Payne, as had happened in 
 America, became a favourite in a large circle of young men of 
 talent, artists, and literary aspirants. Among these were Hay- 
 don ; Dr. Croly (now Rector of St. Stephen's, Walbrook), then 
 a poet, and without a living ; Shiel, the Irish orator, who died 
 Master of the Mint ; Scott, the editor of the " Champion," who 
 fell in a duel in consequence of an attack upon Lockhart ; and 
 Procter (the amiable Barry Cornwall). I remember also seeing 
 at Payne's lodgings, at a breakfast which he gave to a large 
 party, the then celebrated Robert Owen, who was at that time 
 filling the papers with his schemes for re-modelling society on a 
 plan that was to transcend Utopia. I remember Payne telling me 
 that when Wilberforce, on being urged to bring this plan before 
 Parliament, replied that it was too late in the session, Owen ex- 
 claimed, " What, sir ! put off the happiness of mankind till 
 another session of Parliament ! " 
 
 After failing as an actor, Payne tried what he could do as a 
 manager, and undertook the direction of Sadler's Wells for a 
 season. But Grimaldi was the only attractive person in his 
 company, and the manager incurred nightly losses. He gave his 
 friends very amusing accounts of his difficulties and embarrass- 
 ments ; and the melancholy though often laughable incidents he 
 related of this part of his life furnished Washington Irving with 
 much of the theatrical adventure introduced in his " Buckthorne 
 and his friends." 
 
 It was through Payne that I became acquainted with Haydon. 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 HAYDON, THE PAINTER. 
 
 147 
 
 I had admired the power displayed in Haydon's " Macbeth," and 
 still more that shown in his " Solomon." When I first saw him 
 he was engaged on his " Christ entering Jerusalem." 
 
 Payne, who attributed his failure on the boards of Drury Lane 
 to everything but want of talent, had given Haydon a long ac- 
 count of the way in which he had been thwarted by the jealousy 
 of English actors, and the illiberality of the English press. To 
 all this, Haydon very characteristically replied : " Sir, I regret 
 from my soul the treatment you have met with ; I regret it as an 
 Englishman, and am ashamed of my country. I wish it were in 
 my power to do anything that could make you the slightest 
 amends ; but the only way in which I can show my sense of the 
 injustice you have suffered, is to make you the St. John in my 
 picture." 
 
 I was captivated with Haydon's art, which was then certainly 
 at its best, and tried, but with no success, to imitate the richness 
 of his colour and impasto. Allston, Morse, and I, often spent 
 evenings with him, and very pleasant evenings they were. At a 
 much later period I was struck with his resemblance to Charles 
 Lamb's " Ralph Bigod, Esq.," that noble type of the great race 
 of men — " the men who borrow." I even thought, before Lamb 
 declared Fenwick to be the prototype of Bigod, that Haydon was 
 the man ; and I am not sure that Lamb did not think of him as 
 well as of Fenwick ; — all the traits were Haydon's. " Bigod 
 had an undeniable way with him. He had a cheerful, open 
 exterior, a quick, jovial eye, a bald forehead, just touched 
 with grey (cana Jides). He anticipated no excuse, and found 
 
 none When I think of this man, — his fiery glow 
 
 of heart, his swell of feeling, — how magnificent, how ideal he 
 was ; how great at the midnight hour ! And when I compare 
 with him the companions with whom I have associated since, I 
 grudge the saving of a few idle ducats, and think that I am fallen 
 into the society of lenders and little men." 
 
 Haydon never asked me to lend him money ; perhaps he knew 
 I had none to lend ; for, indeed, being a bad economist, I was 
 often obliged to borrow myself : and I may here say, that had it 
 not been for very kind friends, belonging to what Lamb calls the 
 little class of men, I must have been often as badly off as 
 
148 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XI. 
 
 Haydon was at the worst. The only thing he ever borrowed of 
 me was a picture — a copy from a Paul Veronese. He kept it 
 long, but it came safely back to me. 
 
 His " Christ entering Jerusalem " did not equal his " Solo- 
 mon," as a whole ; but there were very fine things in it. The 
 head of Jairus, and the head and figure of his daughter, were 
 inimitably painted; and there was a noble, matronly Jewess, 
 kneeling and spreading drapery, in the foreground. It seemed to 
 me that there was an almost regular decrease of excellence in 
 his pictures, from the " Solomon " to the end of his life, parallel 
 with his increasing troubles. The " Raising of Lazarus " was 
 inferior to the " Entry into Jerusalem," though, had the con- 
 ception and execution, throughout, been equal to the conception 
 and execution of the figure of Lazarus, it would have been one 
 of the finest pictures in the world. The introduction of the father 
 and mother of Lazarus, persons who have no place in the history, 
 was a great mistake. 
 
 Haydon's journal, like his pictures, displays great powers of 
 mind, and in it, as in his pictures, passages of truth and of false- 
 hood often stand side by side. According to the feeling that is 
 uppermost he does the amplest justice, or the grossest injustice, 
 to those of whom he writes. This is most often the case in what 
 he. says of Wilkie, because of Wilkie he speaks most often. 
 
 In a very touching anecdote, he gives a true character of West. 
 While he was at work on the " Solomon," he says, " West called, 
 and was affected to tears at the mother. He said there were 
 points in the picture equal to anything in the art. But," said 
 this good old man, " get into better air ; you will never recover 
 with this eternal anxiety before you. Have you any resources ? " 
 " They are exhausted." " D'ye want money ? " " Indeed I do." 
 " So do I," said he ; " they have stopped my income from the 
 King, but Fauntleroy is arranging an advance, and if I succeed, 
 my young friend, you shall hear. Don't be cast down ; such a 
 work must not be forgotten ! " In the course of the same day 
 West sent him a cheque for £15. 
 
 But Haydon repeats the story of the withdrawal of a little 
 picture by Wilkie from the exhibition, which Allan Cunningham 
 tells in a manner wholly distorted by his prejudices against the 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 HAYDON'S JOURNAL. 
 
 149 
 
 Academy. Haydon acknowledges that lie advised Wilkie not to 
 send the picture, because it was unworthy of his reputation, and 
 then accuses West of intrigue, because he recommended Wilkie 
 to withdraw it. He speaks of West's "pretended" regard for 
 Wilkie. It was a real regard, as I well know, founded on re- 
 spect for him as a man, and the highest admiration of his genius. 
 I have more than once heard West say, " There is but one 
 Wilkie." 
 
 In Haydon's account also of his interview with Flaxman, he 
 gives the grossest caricature of that great artist. 
 
 In some published remarks on Haydon's journal, I have said 
 that " all the charges " contained in it, " unfavourable to the 
 Royal Academy, are unfounded." But a reperusal of it shows 
 me that in one instance I was mistaken. Haydon says, " in 
 1810," he " first put down his name for Associate, Arnold was 
 elected." 
 
 The fact, as thus stated, is inaccurate ; but not so the implied 
 charge of injustice. It was 1809, the year in which he exhibited 
 his " Dentatus," that he first put down his name. In that year 
 there were two vacancies among the Associates. The first was 
 very justly given to Wilkie, but the second very unjustly to 
 Dawe. This was certainly disgraceful to the Academy, and I 
 doubt whether a single man who voted for Dawe did not after- 
 wards repent it. Haydon's " Dentatus," though much inferior to 
 his " Solomon," should assuredly have made him an Associate. 
 His indignation, however, on account of its place in the Exhibi- 
 tion, was what no man with as much genius, and less of vanity, 
 would have felt. It had a central situation in a room where 
 pictures by Reynolds and Gainsborough had often been placed, 
 and where one of Lawrence's finest portraits was hung, when he 
 was President of the Academy. Haydon says the ante-room 
 had no decent light for a picture, which is untrue, for the light in 
 which the " Dentatus " was hung was as good as possible ; nor 
 can I acquit him of wilful misrepresentation, when he says the 
 ante-room had " no window," for this, though in one sense true, is 
 substantially false, the ante-room being lighted by a sky-light, the 
 best of all windows for pictures. 
 
 In judging of Haydon's character, it is fair to consider what he 
 
150 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XI. 
 
 did not, as well as what he did ; and it is to his credit that, 
 through all the extremes of mental agony he suffered, and with 
 his sanguine and ardent temperament, he never gamed, or sought 
 relief from his sufferings by drinking. Indeed, whatever were 
 his faults, he seems to have had no low vices ; and in his family 
 he was as good a husband and father as a man always over head 
 and ears in debt could be ; no doubt a much better husband and 
 father than many a man who never knew any but easy or afflu- 
 ent circumstances. 
 
 Lord John Russell's " Life of Moore " reminds me of the op- 
 portunities I have had of meeting another eminent man. I saw 
 Moore most often at Holland House, and at the House of Mr. 
 Rogers ; but at neither was there a piano, and it was only two or 
 three times at Mr. Murray's that I had opportunities of hearing 
 him sing. I shall never forget a small dinner party, in Albe- 
 marle Street, of which Moore and James Smith (the chief author 
 of the " Rejected Addresses ") were the life and soul. They sat 
 opposite each other at the table, and kept up a constant inter- 
 change of anecdote and pleasantry. 
 
 After dinner they sung their own songs alternately, Moore ac- 
 companying Smith on the piano, though he knew nothing of the 
 airs. But Smith hummed them over in an under tone, previous 
 to singing, and that was sufficient to produce a beautiful accom- 
 paniment from Moore's dextrous little fingers. One of Smith's 
 songs was made up of men's actions contradicting their names, 
 e. g. : 
 
 " Mr. Metcalf ran off upon meeting a cow, 
 With pale Mr. Turnbull behind him. " 
 
 and — 
 
 " Over poor Mr. Lightfoot, confined by the gout, 
 Mr. Heaviside danced a bolero. " 
 
 So much has been said of the taste and feeling with which 
 Moore sung his own songs, that I will say nothing but that too 
 much could not be said of it. 
 
 When his " Life of Byron " first appeared, it was in two large 
 quarto volumes, and the first came out alone. Murray told me 
 that a lady said to him, " I hear it is dull ; " and he told her the 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 THE CHALONS AND CATTERMOLE. 
 
 151 
 
 scandal was all to be in the second volume. " And is the second 
 volume to be had separately ? " asked the lady. 
 
 This last touch was probably given to the story by Murray 
 himself. 
 
 In 1855 Alfred Chalon exhibited his own works with those 
 of Ins brother John, at the rooms of the Society of Arts in the 
 Adelphi. 
 
 Death had separated the brothers, whose affection for each oth- 
 er was the strongest I ever witnessed between relations. Indeed, 
 the love and harmony in that family, of which Alfred is now the 
 sole survivor, was such as, were it universal, would make this 
 world a paradise. 
 
 It was to me a proof — if I had wanted one — of the non-ap- 
 preciation of colour at the present time, that the exhibition of 
 Alfred and John Chalon's pictures failed to attract notice. 
 
 Except at the private view, I doubt, whether any artist enter- 
 ed the rooms, though there is not one living who might not have 
 learned much by studying the pictures there. I went, as to a 
 school, and indeed I always felt myself in a school in the house 
 of the Chalons. To my mind, Alfred Chalon has long been the 
 first among painters in water-colours ; and yet, though his beauti- 
 ful drawing of the Queen was in the great Paris Exhibition, this 
 year, the prize for water-colour art was given to Cattermole ! 
 But it could scarcely be expected that an artist, so little under- 
 stood by his countrymen, should meet with more justice from the 
 jurors of a nation where no taste or feeling for the beauties of 
 colour at present exists. Injustice was done by this decision not 
 only to Chalon but to John Lewis, whose admirable drawing of 
 " the Hareem " was wholly unnoticed. 
 
 In November, this year, I visited Paris in company with my 
 wife, who had never before been in France. We staid about ten 
 days, and though the weather was cold, enjoyed the many enjoy- 
 able things there greatly. 
 
 The enormous collection of pictures and sculpture confirmed 
 what I had before thought, that these arts have gradually declin- 
 ed in England and advanced on the Continent, since the peace of 
 1815. 
 
 When it was proposed to adorn the houses of Parliament with 
 
152 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XI. 
 
 frescoes, Haydon thus wrote : " English art never stood higher 
 than at the end of the war. Foreigners were astonished at our 
 condition, and well might be. The reason was, blockading kept 
 the rich from running over the Continent ; our energies were 
 compressed and devoted to ourselves, and we flourished accord- 
 ingly We escaped the contagion of David's brickdust 
 
 which infected the Continent, and the frescoes are but a branch 
 of the same Upas root grafted upon Albert Durer's hardness, 
 Cimabue's gothicism, and the gilt ground inanity of the middle 
 ages. All the vast comprehensiveness of Velasquez, Rubens and 
 Titian, are now to be set aside, and we are not to go on where 
 they left off, but to begin where their predecessors began." 
 
 It is certain that before the Continent was thrown open to our 
 artists, and our patrons of art, there was an immense difference 
 in favour of the British school, between its productions and those 
 of any other school ; a difference not only in degree, but in kind ; 
 and that, now, though some remains of colour are still left to us, 
 as well as some feeling for what is natural in expression, yet this 
 great difference no longer exists. 
 
 It is as if the British school had possessed the wine, and the 
 other schools the water only of art, and that the peace, by min- 
 gling these, had strengthened the art of the Continent exactly in 
 the degree in which it had diluted art with us. This amalgama- 
 tion may be one cause of the change ; but the rise and decline of 
 art, like the rise and decline of nations, is never the effect of a 
 single cause. 
 
 Combinations of circumstances, which can never be thoroughly 
 understood, bring these things about. 
 
 I am quite aware that, to many, my premises resting on the 
 great superiority of the British school will appear doubtful. 
 Those who take an opposite view to mine will contrast the cor- 
 rectness of drawing of the French and German artists with our 
 inaccuracies in form, and will insist much also on the cultivation 
 in those schools of high art — namely, historical and religious art. 
 With respect to the first point, power in drawing, I heard an emi- 
 nent English painter praise the works of Horace Vernet, while 
 he admitted, with me, that his colouring was disagreeable, and 
 that he had no feeling whatever for that breadth of chiaro-scuro, 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 DESSIN'S HOTEL. 
 
 153 
 
 which has always been a distinction of every great painter. But 
 he praised, and very justly, his facility of composition. 
 
 Now it is clear that the deficiencies he admitted in the art of 
 this very clever Frenchman, must deprive him of any claim to 
 the name of a painter, because as the admission leaves him only 
 the power of expressing forms and combining them well, it leaves 
 him only so much of art as may be given by outline compositions 
 like those of Flaxman, and much better given in that manner ; an 
 entire absence of colour, and chiaro-scuro being very much better 
 than the presence of these qualities without harmony or breath. 
 
 As to the cultivation of historic and religious art by the Conti- 
 nental painters, it will be time enough to call it the cultivation of 
 High art when they produce pictures that will bear even a dis- 
 tant comparison with the works of the great old masters ; while 
 we may say, with pride, that the works of — I will not go back 
 to Hogarth, Reynolds, Wilson, and Gainsborough, for they are 
 now numbered with the old and great masters, — but the works 
 of men whom many of us living have had the happiness of 
 knowing personally, as Fuseli, Stothard, Turner, Constable, Wil- 
 kie, Etty, and the best of Haydon's, will hang with credit among 
 those of the greatest painters that ever lived. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie and I slept at Calais on our way home, and passed 
 the greater part of a day there. We were at Dessin's hotel, and 
 after the hurry and bustle of Paris there was much in this quiet 
 old house to charm us, independently of all associations — its old- 
 fashioned simple elegance -r- so unlike the style of the Parisian 
 hotels — the beautiful garden through which we had to pass to 
 and from our bed-room, all looking as if no change had been 
 made in the house or its decorations for a century. It seemed, 
 indeed, exactly as it must have been when Sterne wrote of it. 
 In the very room where the monk first addressed him, we read 
 the stoiy, and the poor Franciscan's " courteous figure seemed to 
 re-enter." We went into the coachyard where Yorick apologised 
 for his harshness to Father Lorenzo, and we felt that, though 
 Sterne might have been, as Mr. Thackeray calls him, " an old 
 scamp," he has left, in that inimitable story, much atonement to 
 the world for his vices, and for those passages in his writings 
 which it is a pity he had not blotted. 
 
154 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. XI. 
 
 The present master of the hotel is a grandson of the Monsieur 
 Dessin of Sterne, who, by the way, spells the name incorrectly — 
 Dessein ; and in the quarto copy of the " Sentimental Journey," 
 printed both in French and English, which lies in the coffee- 
 room, wherever the name occurs it is corrected with a pencil. 
 
 The head waiter, an old man who has lived at the hotel forty 
 years, followed us into the street when we took leave. He had 
 noticed that we felt interested in the hotel, and placing his hand 
 on my shoulder, he said : 
 
 " You will come here again ? " 
 
 I said : " I hope so, and tell M. Dessin that, if I do, I will 
 bring him some engravings from the 1 Sentimental Journey ' " (I 
 meant those from Stothard) " to hang up in his rooms." 
 
 Another object of interest to me was the old gate, painted by 
 Hogarth. The drawbridge, with its chains depending from the 
 projecting beams, is exactly like that in the picture ; but the port- 
 cullis is gone, and the gate much altered. Whatever remains 
 there may have been of the English arms upon it in Hogarth's 
 time are now wholly removed. 
 
 In this year (1855) we lost an old and valued friend, Peter 
 Powell, who never entered our doors without bringing cheerful- 
 ness, and who often, by his extraordinary powers of amusing, at 
 our little parties, made entire evenings pass as if we formed an 
 audience at a comedy. His songs, all his own, were unsurpassed 
 in humour ; but his great performances were an imitation of an 
 oratorio (in which he gave an idea .of all the instruments of the 
 orchestra, and of Braham on the stage,) and an imitation of a 
 melo-drama. The last was indeed a wonderful affair. Without 
 scenery or any change of his dress he acted an entire melo-drama 
 far more amusingly than any melo-drama was ever acted before. 
 He began with a syllabus in rhyme of what was to come : 
 
 " A Baron — mustachoes — 
 A great hat and feather — 
 A maid in despair — 
 And a deal of foul weather. 
 
 A castle — a village — 
 A wedding — a dance 
 A little like England, 
 A good deal like France. 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 PETER POWELL. 
 
 Then thunder and lightning, 
 And just in the middle, 
 A scream from a maid, 
 And a squeak from a fiddle." 
 
 But how lie would give the dialogue, with the most ludicrous 
 imitation of the melo-dramatic style, express in his own single 
 comical little person an entire corps de ballet and the march of a 
 stage army, and conclude all with a grand battle of infantry and 
 cavalry, ending in a single combat between the perfidious Baron 
 and Lindor, the lover of the piece, in which the Baron falls and 
 dies — how he contrived to do all this can never be described. 
 
 My friendship with Powell began nearly forty years ago, and 
 was never interrupted, though there were subjects (and, as we 
 both considered them, important ones,) on which we never agreed. 
 He was a thoroughly honest, good-hearted, benevolent man, of a 
 most happy temperament, and always delighted to spread happi- 
 ness about him. He died at a good old age (I believe not far 
 from eighty) with little suffering, and preserving the cheerfulness 
 of his nature to the last. 
 
 Another aged friend — for friend I feel sure I may call him — 
 died in this year, whose death was more like a mere dissolution 
 of nature, without disease, than any death within my recollection. 
 
 Whatever place may be assigned to Samuel Rogers among 
 poets, he deserves to hold the highest place among men of taste ; 
 not merely of taste for this or that, but of general good taste in all 
 things. He was the only man I have ever known (not an artist) 
 who felt the beauties of art like an artist. He was too quiet to 
 exercise the influence he should have maintained among the 
 patrons of art ; but, as far as his own patronage extended, it 
 was most useful. He employed, and always spoke his mind in 
 favour of, Flaxman, Stothard, and Turner, when they were little 
 appreciated by their countrymen. The proof of his superior 
 judgment to that of any contemporary collector of art or vertu 
 is to be found in the fact that there was nothing in his house that 
 was not valuable. In most other collections with which I am 
 acquainted, however fine the works of art, or however rare the 
 objects of curiosity, I have always found something that betrayed 
 a want of taste — an indifferent picture, a copy passing for an 
 
156 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. XI. 
 
 original, or something vulgar in the way of ornament. Then, 
 too, his collection was entirely formed by himself, whereas most 
 of the great collections of pictures of the beginning of the present 
 century were formed under the direction of the most respectable 
 dealers — men whose characters warranted their honesty. 
 
 Those who are disposed to think the worst of Mr. Rogers, say 
 that, by the severity of his remarks, he delighted in giving pain. 
 I know that, by the kindliness of his remarks, and still more by 
 the kindliness of his acts, he delighted to give pleasure. 
 
 It has been said that temperance, the bath, the flesh-brush, and, 
 above all, to avoid fretting, were his receipts for health. To these 
 I can add another — fresh air ; for he was a great walker, and it 
 was his daily custom after breakfast (which was often a long meal, 
 as he was fond of company at his breakfast-table,) to go out and 
 spend the greater part of the day in the open air, quite regardless 
 of the weather, of which he never complained. I have heard 
 him express his surprise that the most religious people were 
 often among those who most abused the weather. " They forget," 
 he said, " who sends it. And when it is fine, if you remark how 
 plea -ant it is, they say, ' Yes ; but we shall pay for it.' " 
 
 Lord Byron thought Rogers's taste must have been " the misery 
 of his existence." Never was a greater mistake. True taste, such 
 as his, must contribute to a man's happiness ; but beside the pos- 
 session of this, Rogers had a happily-constituted mind, and no one 
 who knew much of the last years of his life, and who saw the 
 sweet smile on his venerable countenance, when his memory was 
 gone, and when, at times, he did not know that he was in- his own 
 house — no one could see that sweet smile without a conviction 
 that he had much of Heaven within his breast. 
 
 While he retained his faculties, I heard him more than once 
 repeat the concluding lines of Mrs. Barbauld's " Address to 
 Life." * 
 
 Life ! we have been long together, 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 
 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear; 
 Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; 
 
 * I once met Mrs. Barbauld at the house of Mr. Wm. Vaughan, at Clapham. 
 She was a little old lady, still handsome in age, and a perfect gentlewoman in 
 manners. 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 ROGERS'S TABLE TALK. 
 
 157 
 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time — 
 Say not Good night, but in some brighter clime 
 
 Bid me Good morning. 
 
 The last time I heard him recite this passage was at Brighton. 
 My daughters and I were at breakfast with him. I sat so as to 
 command the view from the window : and while he was repeating 
 the lines a funeral was passing. He did not see it. 
 
 During our stay at Brighton, he took me to the Dyke, which I 
 had never before seen. As we sat in his carriage looking over 
 the vast expanse of country below us, he pointed down to a 
 village that seemed all peace and beauty in the tranquil sun-set. 
 
 " Do you see," he said, " those three large tombstones close to 
 the tower of the church ? My father, my mother, and my grand- 
 father are buried there." 
 
 " Really?" 
 
 " No, but I should like to be buried there." 
 
 On telling this to a literary friend, a man, too, who aspired 
 occasionally to be poetical, he exclaimed, " What a lying old 
 rascal ! " 
 
 Several times, at Petworth, we met Mr. Rogers. I recollect 
 that, one evening, all the young ladies in the house, formed a 
 circle round him, listening with extreme interest to a series of 
 ghost stories which he told with great effect. Indeed, while he 
 staid at Petworth, the beaux there had little chance of engaging 
 the attention of the belles, when he was in the room. His man- 
 ner of telling a story was perfect. I remember only one other 
 person, the late Lady Holland, who, like him, used the fewest 
 words with the greatest possible effect ; sometimes more than 
 supplying the omission of a word by a look, or a gesture. 
 Rogers told his stories as, in prose he wrote them. The story of 
 " Marcolini " in his " Italy " for instance, could not have better 
 words, nor fewer, without loss of interest. Walter Scott's man- 
 ner was different. He amplified, digressed, and in relating any- 
 thing he had heard, added touches of his own that were always 
 charming. Lord Eldin (John Clerk), once said to him — " Why, 
 Sir Walter, that's a story of mine you've been telling ; but you 
 have so decorated it, that I scarcely knew it again." 
 
1-58 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [CHAP. XI. 
 
 " Do you think," said Scott, " I'd tell one of your stories, 
 or of any body's, and not put a laced coat and a cocked hat upon 
 it?" 
 
 In the " Table Talk " of Mr. Rogers, published in March, 
 1856, every anecdote that I have heard him relate, is more or 
 less spoilt by the editor. In the story of Lord Ellenborough and 
 the wig box, which he threw so angrily out of his carriage win- 
 dow, mistaking it for his wife's bonnet-box, Mr. Rogers used to 
 wind up with " Lady Ellenborough bore it like an angel ; " but 
 this is omitted. 
 
 The story of Sidney Smith asking his doctor on whose stomach 
 he should take a walk, is so falsified as to be turned into utter 
 nonsense. The story of George IV. talking of his youthful ex- 
 ploits and telling the Duke of Wellington that he had made a 
 body of troops charge down the Devil's Dyke, is very inferior to 
 the story as Mr. Rogers told it to me while we were together at 
 the Dyke. The King said to the Duke : — 
 
 " I once galloped down that hill at the head of my regiment." 
 
 " Very steep, sir," said the Duke. 
 
 There is one other anecdote which, though it may be correctly 
 reported, must not pass without notice. Mr. Rogers was told 
 that a gentleman, passing the door of Sir Joshua Reynolds, saw 
 a poor woman sitting on the steps and crying. She said she had 
 been sitting to Sir Joshua, he had given her a shilling, it was a 
 bad one, and he refused to change it. Now there are two implica- 
 tions against Reynolds in this story ; first his meanness in giving 
 her only a shilling ; and, secondly, his dishonesty in refusing to 
 change it. As to the first insinuation — if, which is very prob- 
 able, the woman had sat but an hour, a shilling was, in those 
 days, ample payment, for no more is expected by persons who sit 
 to artists now ; and, as to the last, it is utterly incredible. There 
 cannot be a doubt that the woman told a lie to excite charity. 
 That such an anecdote should have found a place in the " Table 
 Talk," is not surprising; but I am surprised that Mr. Rogers 
 should have told it without noticing the palpable lie of the 
 woman. 
 
 Those who know Rogers only from his writings, can have no 
 conception of his humour. I have seen him, in his old age, imi- 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 ROGERS'S TABLE TALK. 
 
 159 
 
 tate the style of dancing of a very great lady with an exactness 
 that made it much more ludicrous than any caricature ; and I re- 
 member, when I met him at Cassiobury, that he made some droll 
 attack, I quite forget what it was about, on one of the company, 
 and went on heightening the ridicule at every sentence, till his 
 face " was like a wet cloak ill laid up," as were the faces of all 
 present, and especially the face of the gentleman he was at- 
 tacking. 
 
 At an evening party, at which I met him, the oddest looking 
 little old lady, for she was as broad as she was long, and most 
 absurdly dressed, as she was leaving the room saw him near the 
 door, and accosted him : 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Rogers, it is very long since I have 
 seen you, and I don't think, now, you know who I am." 
 
 u Could I ever forget you ! " He said it with such an em- 
 phasis that she squeezed his hand with delight. 
 
 I think it was in the summer of 1842 that Rogers, Words- 
 worth, and Washington Irving were all under my roof together. 
 I had met them at breakfast at Miss Rogers's, and as we came 
 away at the same time, Rogers walked home with me, and Words- 
 worth and Irving, promising to come, took a cab. As they got 
 into it, Rogers said : — 
 
 " They are a couple of humbugs, I believe, we shall see no 
 more of them." 
 
 They came, however, and Wordsworth's eye on entering my 
 painting-room was caught by copies by Jackson of Reynolds's 
 portraits of Sir George and Lady Beaumont. But I must inter- 
 rupt my story to mention a peculiarity of Rogers. He, and it is 
 common to men of taste, liked to find out something to admire 
 that had escaped others. I have known him at Holland House, 
 when Lord Holland was quoting, with praise, something affecting 
 in prose or poetry, take up a newspaper, and read one of those 
 anonymous appeals that daily appear among the advertisements. 
 
 " If J. C. will return to the home which is made desolate by 
 her absence, all will be forgotten, &c." 
 
 " There," he would say, " is real pathos." 
 
 To make what happened in my room, further understood, I 
 must mention also that Rogers, though he admitted the genius of 
 
IGO 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XI. 
 
 Constable, did not admire his works ; the only indication, as I 
 thought, of his want of taste. Indeed he often told me that my 
 admiration of Constable did harm to my own practice. And now 
 for my story : — 
 
 " Ah ! " said Wordsworth, " there are my old friends Sir 
 George and Lady Beaumont." 
 
 " But not a bit like," said Rogers. " You look at them, be- 
 cause they are a fine lady and gentleman, but you don't notice 
 those sweet cottage children. Who painted that charming pic- 
 ture ? " (Turning to me.) 
 
 " Constable." 
 
 I confess that I enjoyed the triumph of being able to give such 
 an ansAvcr. The picture was an early one by Constable of two 
 little girls, children of his father's coachman. It belonged to Mr. 
 Hering, who lent it to me. He afterwards had it cut, and each 
 child framed in an oval. The youngest he gave to me. 
 
 Mr. Rogers was very fond of children. On his visits to us, 
 when ours were little ones, his first ceremony was to rub noses 
 with them. 
 
 " Now," he would say, " we are friends for life. If you will 
 come and live with me, you shall have as much cherry-pie as you 
 can eat, and a white poney to ride." 
 
 At a later period, my eldest daughter reminded him of these 
 promises, and said : — 
 
 " We believed you, Mr. Rogers." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " how wrong it is to deceive children ; but will 
 you come and live with me now ? " 
 
 He offered her his arm, she took it, and as they were going out 
 of the door, he turned to me, and said : — 
 
 " Good bye, papa." 
 
 It was reported, that about this time he made an offer of mar- 
 riage to a young lady ; most probably founded on something like 
 this. I was told, with reference to the reports, that Lady Hol- 
 land asked him if he intended to marry Miss , and that he 
 
 said : — 
 
 " I'm not old enough." 
 
 His stories of children, of which he told many, were very 
 
CHAP. XI.] 
 
 SAMUEL ROGERS. 
 
 161 
 
 pretty. The prettiest was of a little girl, who was a great favour- 
 ite of every one who knew her. Some one said to her : — 
 
 " Why does everybody love you so much ? " She answered : — 
 
 " I think it is because I love everybody so much." 
 
 He spent most of his time in society, or in walking. He told 
 me that he never read excepting when confined to his house by 
 illness, and " then," he said, " it is a new pleasure." 
 
 I once dined in the chambers Mr. Rogers occupied in the Tem- 
 ple, before he took the house in St. James's Place. The dining- 
 room was a large and cheerful one, on the ground-floor, in Paper 
 Buildings (I think), and commanded a fine view of the river. 
 He had faced the window-shutters with looking-glass, so that 
 from every part of the room there were to be seen views of the 
 river, up and down. 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Prince Saunders — Wilson's Ornithology — Peter Pindar — Matthews " At 
 Home" — Kenney, the Dramatist — Rogers and Maltby. 
 
 On the 1st of October, 1856, our daughter Caroline was mar- 
 ried to Mr. Alexander Pearson Fletcher, a young man whom 
 we all greatly like, and not the less for his being a Scotchman. 
 They went to Paris, where Caroline was so ill that her mother 
 and I joined them, and staid till she was well enough to return. 
 
 Like all old people, I now live much in the past, and constantly 
 recall to mind persons and scenes of which I have said nothing in 
 these pages. 
 
 Nearly forty years ago, a Boston negro, named Prince Saun- 
 ders, came to England, I think, with the intention of going to 
 Africa as a missionary. He had education enough to keep a lit- 
 tle school in Boston, where, I believe, he had also preached. He, 
 however, went not to Africa, but to Hayti, where he obtained the 
 favour of the king, and returned to England with a great deal of 
 money. He was noticed by Mr. Wilberforce, and soon became a 
 lion of the first magnitude in fashionable circles. The Countess 
 of Cork could not have a party without " his Highness Prince 
 Saunders ; " for as he put his Christian name " Prince " on his 
 cards without the addition of Mr., he was believed to be a native 
 African Prince, and he did not undeceive those who chose to 
 think him one. In short, his whole career here was an amusing 
 instance of humbug ; on his part, however, no otherwise than by 
 his silently allowing his admirers to humbug themselves. 
 
 This was very amusing to the Americans who had known him 
 at home. A great Boston lady was in England, who, when 
 Saunders last called on her in Boston, would send him into the 
 kitchen^ to have lunch with her servants. He called on her early 
 one morning in London. She was at breakfast, and with extreme 
 
CHAP. XII.] 
 
 PEINCE SAUNDEES. 
 
 163 
 
 condescension (as she thought) offered him a cup of tea. " No, 
 thank you, ma'am," he said, " I am going to breakfast at Carlton 
 House." 
 
 I was taken by my friend Dr. Francis, of New York, to one 
 of Sir Joseph Banks's conversazioni. The old gentleman re- 
 ceived his company sitting (being very gouty), in his library, at 
 one end of which hung a portrait of Captain Cook. 
 
 " Lamented and with tears as just, 
 As ever mingled with heroic dust." 
 
 The room was filled with the most eminent scientific and lit- 
 erary men, but Prince Saunders, the coal black Boston negro, 
 was the great man of the evening ; a negro too of the most mod- 
 erate abilities. Everybody asked to be presented to " his High- 
 ness." I got near to hear what passed in his circle, and a gentle- 
 man, with a star and ribbon, said to him, " What surprises me is 
 that you speak English so well." Saunders, who had never spo- 
 ken any other language in his life, bowed, and smiled acceptance 
 of the compliment. 
 
 He had a large party one evening at his lodgings ; but the 
 Countess of Cork, having a party the same night, as she could 
 not go to Saunders, sent her carriage for him, and he left his 
 company, and went to the Lady Cork. 
 
 From Prince Saunders, a nobody, who was made much of, my 
 recollections go back to a man who was somebody, and (compara- 
 tively) made little of while he lived — Alexander Wilson, the 
 ornithologist. 
 
 Mr. Bradford, the same liberal patron who enabled me to study 
 painting, enabled Wilson to publish the most interesting account 
 of birds, and to illustrate it with the best representations of their 
 forms and colours, that has ever appeared. Wilson was engaged 
 by Mr. Bradford as tutor to his sons, and as editor of the Ameri- 
 can edition of " Pees's Cyclopaedia ; " while at the same time he 
 was advancing his Ornithology for publication. I assisted him to 
 colour some of its first plates. We worked from birds which he 
 had shot and stuffed, and I well remember the extreme accuracy 
 of his drawings, and how carefully he had counted the number of 
 scales on the tiny legs and feet of his subject. 
 
 He looked like a bird ; his eyes were piercing, dark, and lumin- 
 
164 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XII. 
 
 ous, and his nose shaped like a beak. He was of a spare bony- 
 form, very erect in his carriage, inclining to be tall ; and with a 
 light elastic step, he seemed perfectly qualified by nature for his 
 extraordinary pedestrian achievements. 
 
 Alexander Wilson belonged to a class of men of which Scot- 
 land seems to have produced a greater number than any other 
 country — men from the humble and middle classes of life, of 
 poetic minds, lovers of nature, of science, and of art — men of 
 unconquerable perseverance, who succeed at last in acquiring 
 fame, and sometimes fortune, often in despite of the most adverse 
 circumstances in early life. 
 
 Wilson's ardour in the pursuit of science was too much for Ins 
 bodily strength, and he died at the age of forty-five. 
 
 His biographer, George Ord, speaks thus of him : — " Mr. 
 Wilson possessed the nicest sense of honour. In all his dealings 
 he was not only scrupulously just, but highly generous. His ven- 
 eration for truth was exemplary. His disposition was sociable 
 and affectionate. His benevolence extensive. He was remarka- 
 bly temperate in eating and drinking ; his love of retirement 
 preserving him from the contamination of the convivial circle. 
 And unlike the majority of his countrymen, he abstained from 
 the use of tobacco in every shape. But as no one is perfect, he 
 partook in a small degree of the weakness of humanity. He 
 was of the genus irritabile, and was obstinate in opinion. It 
 ever gave him pleasure to acknowledge error when the conviction 
 resulted from his own judgment alone, but he could not endure to 
 be told of mistakes. Hence his associates had to be sparing of 
 their criticisms, through fear of forfeiting his friendship. With 
 almost all his friends he had occasionally, arising from a collision 
 of opinion, some slight misunderstanding, which was soon passed 
 over, leaving no disagreeable impression. But an act of disre- 
 spect, or wilful injury, he would seldom forgive." 
 
 Mr. Bradford was the most enterprising publisher in America, 
 and determined to make the " Ornithology," as far as he had to 
 do with it, in the highest degree creditable to his country. 
 
 The types, which were very beautiful, were cast in America ; 
 and though at that time paper was largely imported, he determined 
 that the paper should be of American manufacture ; and I re- 
 
CHAP. XII.] 
 
 WILSON'S ORNITHOLOGY. 
 
 165 
 
 member that Amies, the paper maker, carried his patriotism so 
 far that he declared he would use only American rags in making 
 it. The result was that the book far surpassed any other that had 
 appeared in that country, and I apprehend, though it may have 
 been equalled in typography, has not before or since been equalled 
 in its matter or its plates. 
 
 Bewick comes nearest to it ; but his accounts of birds are not 
 so full and complete, and his figures, admirably characteristic and 
 complete as they are in form, have not the advantage of the much 
 larger scale of Wilson's, or of colour. 
 
 Unfortunately Wilson's book was necessarily expensive, and 
 therefore not remunerative ; but nothing discouraged him, as will 
 be seen by an extract from a letter which must, from its date, have 
 been written when the first volume only had appeared, which was 
 followed by eight more. 
 
 " If I have been mistaken in publishing a work too good for the 
 country, it is a fault not likely to be soon repeated, and will pretty 
 severely correct itself. But whatever may be the result of these 
 matters, I shall not sit down with folded hands while anything 
 can be done to carry my point, since God helps them who help 
 themselves. I am fixing correspondents in every corner of these 
 remote regions * like so many pickets or outposts, so that scarcely 
 a wren or tit shall be able to pass along from York to Canada but 
 I shall get intelligence of it." 
 
 Before I left America I was well acquainted with Peter Pin- 
 dar's verses, and indeed knew many of them by heart ; for (not- 
 withstanding his ill-nature) his humour and his excellent sense, 
 when not influenced by a bad motive, made me read him with 
 delight and I think with some profit. A short time before Dr. 
 Wolcott's death I became acquainted with a young Irishman, a 
 literary man, named Desmoulins, who was intimate with him, and 
 who, knowing my admiration of his poems, offered to take me to 
 see him. The doctor appointed a day to receive us, and we called 
 at his lodgings in a small house in an obscure street in Somers- 
 town. But he was too ill to see a stranger. Mr. Desmoulins 
 went up to his bed room, and I stayed in his little sitting room 
 which was furnished as might be expected. There were shelves 
 * He was writing from Boston. 
 
106 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XII. 
 
 with books, a piano, on which lay a violin, and there were pic- 
 tures and drawings on the walls, of which some were small 
 copies from Reynolds, and some landscapes in water-colours by 
 Wolcott himself. As well as I recollect, these were good, 
 their effects of light and shade broad and powerful. He died 
 soon after. 
 
 I was standing one day with Mr. Sockett, the rector of Pet- 
 worth, before his house, when an old-fashioned chair upon wheels 
 was drawn past by a labouring man, a crippled pauper being in 
 it. " Go and put your hand on the back of that chair," said Mr. 
 Sockett. I did so, and " Now," he said, " your hand has been 
 where the hand of the poet Cowper has often been. I have often 
 drawn Mrs. Unwin in that chair round Hayley's grounds at 
 Eartham, with Cowper and Hayley pushing at the back of it. 
 The old lady had an attack of paralysis while she and Cowper 
 were on a visit to Hayley. Cowper remembered to have heard 
 that electricity was good in such attacks, and the nearest electrical 
 machine being at my mother's house it was sent for, and I (then 
 a boy) being the only person who knew how to make use of it was 
 sent for to work it. Hayley took a fancy to me, and afterwards 
 recommended me to Lord Egremont as a tutor to his three sons. 
 Lord Egremont sent me to college with them, I took orders, and 
 he gave me this living ; and all this followed from the accident 
 of Mrs. Unwin's attack at Hayley's house. 
 
 Mr. Sockett has a set of chairs which had belonged to Hayley. 
 They are of carved mahogany, and designed by Flaxman. The 
 centre of every back is a lyre. 
 
 I have been at many pleasant dinner parties, as I suppose 
 everybody who has reached the age of sixty-three may say, but 
 at few more amusing than one at Mr. Cartwright's, at which 
 Charles Kemble and Matthews the elder were present. Edwin 
 Landseer was there and Mr. Z., as I shall call a person of some 
 note in his day. 
 
 Matthews was preparing a new " At Home," and rehearsing 
 his songs in private companies according to his custom, and we 
 had the benefit of one of these rehearsals. He sung several after 
 dinner. One, as I remember, described a fox-hunt, and con- 
 cluded with an enumeration of the mishaps of the day incurred 
 
CHAP. XII.] 
 
 MATTHEWS AT HOME. 
 
 167 
 
 by a dandy who had never hunted before. " He had been 
 fatigued to death, thrown into a ditch, lost his boa, his hat, and 
 one of his boots, and all because a parcel of dogs chose to follow 
 an unpleasant smell." These compositions of Matthews consisted 
 of alternate singing and speaking. I think he invented that kind 
 of song, and I believe he was assisted in them and in the getting 
 up of his entire entertainment by his son, now so deservedly 
 popular. 
 
 Mrs. Trollope's book on America was just published, and Mr. 
 Z. took occasion to eulogise it and abuse the Americans. Mat- 
 thews defended them. As to Americanisms, he said, he once 
 made out a pretty long list, but had since met with every one of 
 them in England excepting only " Slick right away." Then Z. 
 attacked their mispronunciations, and Matthews mentioned several 
 words in which they are more correct than Englishmen. For 
 instance engine, in which they give the true sounds of the vowels, 
 while here it is commonly pronounced ingin. Edwin Landseer 
 mentioned Lunnon for London, charot for chariot, as not unfre- 
 quent among fashionable people, and potticary also. " Sir," said 
 Z., with an expression of great contempt, " you must have lived 
 
 among potticaries." " Did you ever hear " (naming a lady 
 
 of high rank) " say potticary ? " " Yes," said Landseer. Z. then, 
 without knowing the least about the matter, doubted whether the 
 eating and drinking in America were to be compared to ours — 
 "You never sat down to such a dinner as this in America." 
 Matthews made him very angry by asserting that he had often 
 done so, and with wine as good, " and such Madeira as you never 
 tasted, and never will taste till you go there." He added some- 
 thing more that made Z., who had by this time taken quite wine 
 enough, so angry that he rose on his feet and exclaimed, " That's 
 not true, you stupid old Mr. Matthews ; " and Matthews answered 
 with the most perfect good humour, " It is true, you sensible old 
 Mr. Z." 
 
 A friend of mine wrote a farce, I think some five and forty 
 years ago, and sent it to the managers of Covent Garden Theatre, 
 who kept it for some time and returned it with a civil refusal. 
 Not long after, a new farce was announced at Covent Garden, 
 called " Love, Law, and Physick." Now a lawyer and a doctor 
 
168 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. [chap. xii. 
 
 were the principal personages in my friend's production, and of 
 course there was love in it ; so we were almost certain it had 
 been pirated. We formed a party, therefore, for the first night, 
 to detect the villany of the managers and the author, and I am 
 not sure that my friend had not prepared a rough draft of an 
 indignant letter to some newspaper. There was not however the 
 remotest resemblance between Kenney's admirable after-piece and 
 our friend's ; and, instead of the luxury of a first rate grievance, 
 we saw " Love, Law, and Physiek " acted more amusingly than 
 it was ever acted again ; for Matthews, as the lawyer, gave an 
 imitation of Lord Ellenborough, summing up a case and charging 
 a jury, which he was not permitted to repeat. The other actors 
 were Liston, Emery, and Blanchard ; and there was Mrs. Gibbs, 
 to see whom and to hear whose joyous laugh would have been 
 worth our tickets, had the rest been bad actors instead of the very 
 best. 
 
 Many years after this I became acquainted with Kenney, and 
 found him always delightful. His health was bad, and he suf- 
 fered from a nervous affection which showed itself very oddly ; 
 sometimes it seemed impossible for him to make up his mind to 
 step over a gutter or to get into a carriage. But he always talked 
 well, was always ready to amuse or be amused, and every mo- 
 ment of his life he was a perfect gentleman. 
 
 His abilities, however, failed to do for him what infinitely 
 smaller abilities constantly do for other men, and he was always, 
 at least while I knew him, struggling with pecuniary difficulties. 
 His indifferent health no doubt precluded much effort, and he had 
 a large family to support. 
 
 At last, when worn out with fruitless exertion, his friends made 
 arrangements to give him a benefit at Drury Lane. I saw him a 
 day or two before it took place. He was ill, but not in bed, and 
 hoped to be at the theatre ; but on the very morning of the day 
 of his benefit he died. 
 
 The first thought of his family was to postpone the perform- 
 ance, but Mr. Rogers, who had taken a great interest in the 
 affair, said " No ; " and the " Beggars' Opera," and " Love, Law, 
 and Physiek" were acted to an overflowing house, in which 
 what had happened that morning was known only behind the 
 
CHAP. XII.] 
 
 ROGERS AND MALTBY. 
 
 169 
 
 scenes. Wright played Liston's part in the farce, and better than 
 any body but Liston could play it. 
 
 In Charles Lamb's " Two Races of Men," there is an amusing 
 allusion to Kenney and to Mrs. Kenney, " that part-French, better- 
 part English woman," as Lamb calls her. 
 
 I think it was Kenney who said of Luttrell's " Advice to 
 Julia," a poem aiming at humour, that " it was too long and not 
 broad enough." 
 
 Poor Kenney ! the sufferings of so sensitive and fine a mind 
 as his, sufferings which were never obtruded on his friends, must 
 have been very great. But he enjoyed society, and adorned it in 
 his quiet modest way. 
 
 I constantly recall anecdotes of those who are gone, and I 
 shall put down at a venture things that amused me in the hope 
 that they may amuse others. 
 
 Mr. Rogers told me that when the " Pleasures of Memory " 
 was first published, one of those busy gentlemen, who are 
 vain of knowing everybody, came up to him at a party, and 
 
 said, " Lady is dying to be introduced to the author of 
 
 the ' Pleasures of Memory.' " " Pray let her live," said Rogers, 
 and with difficulty they made their way through the crowd to 
 the lady. " Mr. Rogers, madam, author of the ' Pleasures of 
 Memory.' " " Pleasures of what ? " "I felt for my friend," said 
 Rogers. 
 
 Not many years before his death he visited Paris with his 
 friend Mr. Maltby. Maltby was a year or two the elder, and 
 their friendship began (I think Mr. Rogers told me) when he 
 was but nine, and lasted without the slightest interruption till the 
 death of Maltby at upwards of ninety. 
 
 Maltby was one of the most absent of men. While in Paris 
 together Rogers dined at a party, where a lady who sat next 
 him did not know him at first, but after hearing him talk for some 
 time discovered who he was. Maltby was not at this dinner, and 
 Rogers telling him of this lady said, " she asked if my name was 
 not Rogers." u And was it ? " inquired Maltby. 
 
 Mr. Rogers said he preferred the mode in Roman Catholic 
 churches of seats without pews ; and a gentleman who preferred 
 pews said, " If there were seats only, I might find myself sitting 
 
170 
 
 MEMOIR OF C. R. LESLIE. 
 
 [chap. XII. 
 
 by my coachman." " And perhaps you may be glad to find your- 
 self beside him in the next world." • 
 
 I remember also his saying, " those who go to heaven will be 
 very much surprised at the people they find there, and very much 
 surprised at those they do not find there." 
 
 ******* 
 
EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 When a little above seventeen Leslie landed in England, as 
 we read in his Autobiography, in December, 1811. He kept up 
 a regular correspondence with his family at Philadelphia, from 
 which, however, only extracts have been placed at my disposal. 
 It is principally from these extracts and his correspondence with 
 Washington Irving, that the following selections have been made. 
 Leslie was a regular exhibitor at the Royal Academy from 1813 
 to 1859, the year of his death, with the exception of 1815, 1817, 
 1818, 1823, 1828, 1830, 1834, and 1853. His life was unevent- 
 ful ; spent in the affectionate discharge of family duties — which 
 no man ever fulfilled better — and in the happy practice of his 
 art. Its public interest lies entirely in its connection with his 
 pictures. I have therefore enumerated, for each year, the pic- 
 tures of that year, with selections from his letters which throw 
 light on the progress of his pictures, or on the occupations, ideas, 
 and associations of the painter. I have been fuller' in my ex- 
 tracts from the earlier letters, as of importance in illustrating the 
 growth of the writer's mind, both as regards art and general 
 culture. 
 
 Leslie's letters paint the man — affectionate, social, candid, 
 modest, and eager for instruction and improvement ; always seek- 
 ing the society of the best and most eminent persons to whom he 
 could gain access, without intrusion or forwardness. 
 
172 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 1812. 
 
 Pictures Painted this Year. 
 
 Timon of Athens. — Hercules. — Portraits of Mrs. Visscher; Miss 
 Smythe; Mr. Inskeep; Mr. Coate; Benjamin West, P. R. A.; Mr. 
 West (of Salem, Massachusetts); Mr. Earle. 
 
 Leslie's first year in London was a memorable one, especially 
 to citizens of the United States residing in England. On the 
 the 29th of June, 1812, the orders in council, affecting the trade 
 of neutrals were revoked, as regards America, in consequence of 
 the revocation of Napoleon's Berlin and Milan decrees. But un- 
 luckily for the specific effect of our revocation in the United 
 States, Congress had already declared war with England on the 
 18th of the same month. 
 
 This war continued till the conclusion of the treaty of Ghent, 
 on December the 24th, 1814. Leslie's letters extending over this 
 period contain allusions to the hostile relations of the two coun- 
 tries and regrets at the obstruction to correspondence thus caused, 
 but it is remarkable that these allusions show scarcely any trace 
 of bitterness against this country. The young writer, though 
 thoroughly national, seems, already, to have felt that, let the gov- 
 ernments differ as they might, the nations were kindred. To him 
 London was, above all, the seat and nursery of the arts he loved. 
 Politics occupy him little. 
 
 His chief associates were the American artists, Allston, King 
 and Morse. His days were spent in study at the Academy, the 
 British Museum, and Burlington House, where the Elgin mar- 
 bles were then deposited, or in portrait painting. Before begin- 
 ning work, he tells his sister, he often bathed in the Serpentine. 
 The favourite amusement of his evenings was the play. This 
 was the year of Mrs. Siddons' retirement from the stage, and he 
 followed her through the round of her farewell performances. 
 His earliest letters are almost equally divided between his own 
 art and the theatre. 
 
 Thus, writing to Miss Leslie, 19th April, 1812, he tells her 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 173 
 
 " I have just returned from seeing ' The Gamester. ' It is the 
 last time Mrs. Sidclons is ever to perform the character of Mrs. 
 Beverley ; I never saw so perfect a piece of acting. She appear- 
 ed very much affected at the commencement, and really shed 
 tears. In the scene between her and Stukely, she was uncom- 
 monly fine. Although she is now very large, she appears as easy 
 in her motions as a young girl, and is extremely graceful. In 
 the last scene, she almost surpassed herself. A lady in the boxes 
 went into hysterics and was carried out. The look of speechless 
 agony she cast on the body of Beverley as she went off, surpassed 
 everything I had ever seen. Beverley was played by Young, 
 who is very like Wood * in his manners (the latter I believe 
 copies him,) though a much better stage figure, and has a fine 
 head, though I will not say a more expressive countenance. His 
 voice too is very good. He stands certainly next to Kemble in 
 tragedy. Lewson was very well played by C. Kemble. Stukely, 
 by Egerton, was but ordinary. King has seen Cooke in that 
 character, with Kemble and Mrs. Siddons. What a treat! I 
 can scarcely bear to think of it. I did not stay to see the farce, 
 which was the ' Child of Nature. ' 
 
 " In the Exhibition, which will open in a few days, there is to 
 be a picture of Kemble in ' Cato, ' by Lawrence, which he has 
 just finished. I have seen that of him in Hamlet — it is very 
 fine. 
 
 " A new romance by Murphy has appeared, called ' The 
 Milesian Chief. ' Allston, who is a great admirer of this man's 
 works, says it is much better than * The Fatal Revenge. ' It is 
 a modern story ; the scene is in Ireland. I have seen the first 
 volume, but have not been able to get the others from the library. 
 The language abounds in poetical images. Morse and myself 
 subscribe jointly to a very large library in Bond Street. We 
 take out seven volumes at a time. The days now are quite 
 long, and the weather begins to be very fine. 
 
 " When it grows warmer I shall go to the British Museum 
 every day, to draw from the antiques, of which there is a fine 
 collection there. I have begun to study the Vault Scene in 
 Marmion, which I shall finish for the next Exhibition. I wished 
 to have done something for this year; but it was impossible. 
 * An Actor in Philadelphia. — Ed. 
 
174 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 You know it requires some time to use oil colours with facility, 
 and as I never painted in that way until I came here, my first es- 
 says were wretched daubs, and I could have sent out nothing 
 that would not have disgraced me. I have painted several por- 
 traits, and have improved myself so much that I shall soon be 
 able to earn something in that way. 
 
 " You wish there may be an accommodation between the two 
 countries. I think there will soon be. You can have no idea of 
 the distress our non-intercourse has caused here. There is noth- 
 ing to be heard of but riots in the manufacturing towns. The 
 poor are in a state of starvation. The Prince is abused by 
 everybody. You would be astonished at the audacity of the pub- 
 lic papers against him. He is caricatured in all the print shops. 
 I am sure he cannot be less popular in America than he is here. 
 The ' Examiner, ' a violent opposition paper, said the other day, 
 4 it was reported that the Prince and his brothers were going to 
 the Continent in person.' He observed that, ' it would be a most 
 refreshing sight to see those royal personages quitting the coun- 
 try for the good of the state.' Cooper will be a very great loser 
 by his bet. The King may live these twenty years yet, for 
 aught I know ; he is now doing very well. I dare say I shall 
 not stay here long enough to witness his funeral. I went the 
 other day to see Barker's Panorama of Lisbon. It is admirably 
 painted, and said to be exactly like it. I think I mentioned in 
 another letter that I had seen two other paintings of the sort. 
 They are certainly perfect in their way. The objects appear so 
 real, that it is impossible to imagine at what distance the canvas 
 is from the eye. 
 
 " I went lately to see an Exhibition of Water Colour Drawings, 
 from the Old Masters. They have brought that kind of painting 
 to greater perfection in this country than, I believe, ever was 
 known before. 
 
 " The colours appear equally brilliant with oil, but I cannot 
 see any advantage in it, as it is quite as much trouble to use them 
 as oil, and the pictures will not last so long." * 
 
 On May the 11th, Perceval was assassinated. Leslie writes 
 next day 
 
 * They sometimes last longer. — Leslie. 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 175 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, May 12th, 1812. 
 ******* 
 
 " There has been a violent sensation excited here to-day by the 
 assassination of Mr. Perceval. You will no doubt have heard 
 of this shocking affair before this reaches you. He was shot last 
 evening in the passage to the House of Commons just as he was 
 entering, by a man who had posted himself there for the purpose, 
 said to be a bankrupt merchant of Liverpool. The ball penetrated 
 his heart, and he instantly expired. The perpetrator of the deed 
 surrendered himself immediately to the officers of justice ; indeed 
 it was very evident he had no wish to escape. As soon as it 
 reached the ears of the mob they assembled in vast bodies about 
 the house crying out, ' Burdett for ever.' I am told there has 
 been chalked on many of the walls near it, i Peace, or the Re- 
 gent's Head.' There seems to be some mighty event about to 
 take place here. It appears to me like a great play, at which I 
 am an unconcerned spectator. 
 
 " I have just returned from seeing Mrs. Siddons in ' Venice 
 Preserved.' The afterpiece being one I had seen before, I 
 thought I should much better employ the remainder of this even- 
 ing in writing home. I have beheld Belvidera herself to-night. 
 It is the fourth time I have seen this play and by very far the best. 
 Kemble was uncommonly animated in Pierre. I think the scene 
 of the Senate and that between him and Jaffier afterwards were 
 inimitable. The words of Aufidius seemed exactly to apply to 
 him : — 
 
 Thy face 
 
 Bears a command in't; tho' thy tackle's torn 
 Thou show'st a noble vessel. 
 
 " I like him equally well with Cooke, but I think it is hardly 
 right to draw a comparison between them, as the line of char- 
 acters they each excel in is quite different. Kemble could not 
 play Sir Pertinax like Cooke, nor could the latter perform Pierre 
 or Coriolanus like Kemble. I saw Mrs. Siddons about a week 
 ago in the ' Grecian Daughter,' in which character I have sent 
 
176 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 you a drawing of her. She played the character as well as pos- 
 sible, though it is not a play that I like much. It appears to me 
 to be one of those works which you cannot find fault with, and 
 yet has no striking beauties. Young played Evander extremely 
 well, and Charles Kemble Dionysius. The scenery, dresses, &c, 
 were very splendid and perfectly classical. The afterpiece was 
 the ' Secret Mine,' a foolish melodrame they have got up for the 
 sake of exhibiting the horses. The scenery, &c, were as usual 
 very superb. They are performing this piece again to-night, 
 which caused me to come away, for I never wish to see anything 
 after a tragedy excepting a good broad farce. 
 
 " I have sent you two other drawings, one of Young as Rolla, 
 and the other Liston as Diego in ' The Virgins of the Sun.' 
 They are thought to be pretty good likenesses. Liston is the first 
 comic performer at Covent Garden. He is equivalent to Jefferson 
 with us. The moment he comes on, the whole house begins to 
 roar with laughter. 
 
 " I have just begun to copy a small picture of Mr. West's of 
 ' Arethusa Bathing ; ' it is a most beautiful thing ; when it is 
 finished I shall endeavour to send it over, together with a design 
 I intend making. Mr. West gave Morse and myself a recom- 
 mendation to the British Museum, which we delivered this morn- 
 ing, and shall go there in a day or two to commence drawing. I 
 have just finished a half-length portrait of Mrs. Visscher, an 
 American lady, whom I mentioned in a former letter as looking 
 so much like Anna. I have also begun to paint Miss Smythe, a 
 daughter of Mr. Maxwell's, whom I also mentioned. 
 
 " This young lady is governess in a family, and owing to her 
 engagements through the week, she can only sit to me on Sun- 
 days; her portrait therefore will proceed but slowly. She has 
 many accomplishments, among which, her drawing very well is 
 not the least. She is a beautiful girl, and appears to be very 
 amiable. 
 
 " I have two acquaintances that I believe I did not mention in 
 my former list, Collard and Lonsdale. The first is a musician 
 and a partner in the house of Clementi and Co., from whom 
 Bradford imports pianos. He is a man of excellent sense, though 
 generally so facetious that one feels inclined to laugh at every- 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 177 
 
 thing he says. Lonsdale is a portrait painter, though rather 
 mediocre in his profession. He is, however, excellent company 
 — a good deal like Collard in his maimer. They are both 
 Englishmen, so you see I am not altogether among Americans 
 here. We frequently have evening parties composed of these two 
 gentlemen, Allston, King, Morse, and myself ; sometimes at their 
 respective houses and sometimes at ours. In this circle my time 
 always passes delightfully. 
 
 " The Exhibition at Somerset House has just opened. I went 
 there the first day ; but the rooms were so crowded I could not 
 enjoy it at all — I shall go again soon. Lawrence's portrait of 
 Kemble in ' Cato,' is very fine, and the best likeness I have ever 
 seen of him. He is seated in his study with a scroll in his hand, 
 and his dagger lying on the table. His eyes are raised, and he 
 appears to be just exclaiming, ' It must be. so — Plato, thou rea- 
 son'st well.' There are a great number of other fine portraits by 
 Lawrence and Sir William Beechey. Mr. West has only two 
 pictures there, * Saul Prophesying,' and a portrait of Mr. Wilmot, 
 who settled the claims of the American Loyalists. There is a 
 grand Landscape by Turner,* representing a scene in the Alps in 
 a snow storm, with Hannibal's army crossing ; but as this picture 
 is placed very low, I could not see it at the proper distance, owing 
 to the crowd of people. Allston says it is a wonderfully fine 
 thing : he thinks Turner the greatest painter since the days of 
 Claude. I intend soon going to his gallery which is now just 
 opened. There is also a large picture of ' Christ Blessing Chil- 
 dren,' by Trumbull,f but I do not like it — his Scripture pieces 
 are, I think, very far inferior to his battles. The number of pic- 
 tures amount to 940 at this Exhibition. In the model-room there 
 is a bust of Mr. West, by Mr. Nollekens, I think the best likeness 
 I ever saw of him. 
 
 " I frequently see an old beggar, without legs, in Holborn, who 
 was one of the rioters at the time Newgate was burnt, and had 
 both his legs shot by a chain-shot in that very street. He was 
 
 * Now in the Turner Gallery, South Kensington. 
 
 f Col. Trumbull, an American painter, and during the War of Independence 
 a member of General Washington's staff, some of whose battle-pieces ornament 
 the Capitol at Washington. 
 
 12 
 
178 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 afterwards condemned to be hung, but pardoned on account of his 
 maimed condition. I dare say mother or you may recollect seeing 
 this man. I am told his body is remarkably fine, and that he has 
 frequently sat to artists — very often to Mr. West. 
 
 " When I called on Mr. West the other day, I asked him to 
 let me make an outline from his great picture to send to you. I 
 told him what a miserable thing they had in America. He said 
 the etching by Heath was now made, and I am in hopes I shall 
 be able to procure one of them through his interest. 
 
 " He told me he had one or two small pictures that he was fin- 
 ishing out of the way, and as soon as they were done he would 
 go to work immediately on the picture for America, and not quit 
 it until he finished it, which could be by next autumn." 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, 6th August, 1812. 
 "The news has just arrived of the declaration of war; and as 
 there is an embargo laid on all American vessels that have not 
 licenses, this will probably be the last opportunity I shall have of 
 writing for some time. I am in hopes, however, that as affairs 
 between the two countries have at length advanced to a crisis, 
 they will be more speedily settled in some way or other, and we 
 shall be relieved from the state of uncertainty that has so long 
 existed. The interruption of our correspondence will be a dread- 
 ful thing to me, but I must bear it as well as I can, in hopes that 
 the time is not far distant when the intercourse will be opened 
 much more freely than ever, when our country shall have inspired 
 some respect by its decisive and firm measures. I have almost 
 finished my picture of i Timon,' and have considerably advanced 
 with one of ' Hercules reclining on his Club,' from the famous 
 statue. It will be the largest figure I have painted ; I am copy- 
 ing it from a small cast (the same as that in the Academy) and 
 have a living model to colour it from. They have a very fine 
 cast from the original at Somerset House, which is colossal, I 
 suppose twelve feet high. 
 
 " I intend making drawings from that to finish my hands and 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 179 
 
 feet from. I believe I mentioned to you before that Allston was 
 about a large picture (the dead man revived by touching the 
 bones of Elisha). Mr. West called on him the other day to see 
 it, and was quite astonished. * Why, sir,' he exclaimed, ' this re- 
 minds me of the fifteenth century ; you have been studying in 
 the highest schools of art.' He added, * There are eyes in this 
 country that will be able to see so much excellence ; ' and then, 
 turning round, he saw a head Allston had modelled in clay for 
 one of his figures, and asked what it was, taking it to be an an- 
 tique. Allston told him it was one of his, at which, after exam- 
 ining it carefully, he said there was not a sculptor in England 
 could do anything like it. He did not find fault with any part of 
 the picture, but merely suggested the introduction of another 
 figure. 
 
 " I never was more delighted in my life than when I heard 
 this praise coming from Mr. West, and so perfectly agreeing with 
 my own opinion of Allston. He has been in high spirits ever 
 since, and his picture has advanced amazingly rapid for these two 
 or three days. He intends sending it to the exhibition of the 
 British Gallery, where it will no doubt obtain the prize of 400 
 guineas, besides which he will have an opportunity of selling it. 
 I have just heard that David has finished the most excellent like- 
 ness of Bonaparte that ever was painted, and that that monarch 
 intends sending it to the Prince Regent. He is represented just 
 rising from his chair to go to bed, and looking at a clock, the 
 hand of which points to four in the morning ; before him is a 
 table covered with papers, mathematical instruments, &c. It is 
 said that the countenance possesses the minutest shades of his 
 character. This is the account one person gives of it, but I am 
 told others say it is not at all like him. I suppose the Prince 
 means to send his in return. Lucien Bonaparte, who has been 
 ordered out of this country, I am told, wants to go to America, 
 and has offered to present his collection of pictures to the gov- 
 ernment there, to establish a National Gallery. Allston, who 
 has seen it, says it is quite an indifferent collection. 
 
 " Morse and I find ourselves very comfortable in our new lodg- 
 ings, and I hope we shall not change again very soon. Our land- 
 lady has a very pretty daughter, which is one very great recom- 
 
180 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 mendation to her lodgings. By the bye, we shall not now be 
 able to hear of King's arrival very soon. If he delivers the 
 letter I gave him to mother, I hope you will all show him a good 
 deal of attention, as he was a very great friend to me here. I 
 am sure you will like him, for he is very agreeable, has read a 
 good deal, and, from the opportunities I have had of judging, 
 I think he has an excellent heart as well as head. He will 
 be able to give you a good account of me, of the manner in 
 which I live, &c. There is one quality that I found in King 
 which pleased me much, because it is a scarce one, he does not 
 Jlatter. 
 
 " I am now reading Telemachus again, and intend to paint 
 some subjects from it. These subjects are much more advanta- 
 geous for me to paint than those from Gothic poems such as Scott's, 
 because I have an opportunity of making parts of my figures 
 naked, and I am now studying the human form as much as pos- 
 sible. It was for this reason that I chose ' Timon of Athens ' 
 and ' Hercules.' I intend, in the next picture I paint, to follow 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds's advice, and take all my figures from Michael 
 Angelo's works, altering some of them slightly ; or perhaps con- 
 sidering them as statues, and taking other views of them, and I 
 think I shall also model some of them in clay. Sir J. says that 
 by this means you imperceptibly acquire a habit of thinking like 
 him from whom you select your figures, and that when you come 
 to introduce one of your own in the picture it will- necessarily 
 partake somewhat of the grandeur of the others. It is for this 
 reason that sculptors consider it a valuable lesson to supply the 
 limbs of the Torso. Speaking of this noble fragment, many 
 people think that it was made by Michael Angelo and buried, but 
 I think it hardly probable that had it been so, that great man 
 Avould have kept it so profound a secret. 
 
 " It is very certain that he studied it intensely, and the resem- 
 blance his manner has to something in that 6 mass of breathing 
 stone,' was much more probably the result of his studies from it, 
 than given to it by him." 
 
 The fashion of the day in art was classical. * The Antique,' 
 ' the Nude,' < High Art,' and ' Michael Angelo,' were dinned into 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 181 
 
 the ears of the student. Leslie began with a boy's belief in the 
 orthodoxy of these doctrines ; and was as yet without a suspicion, 
 apparently, that a painter's style and subject must be determined 
 by the painter's own bent and capacity. This was the period at 
 which, as he tells us in his lectures, he considered Mr. West equal 
 to Raffaelle. In deference to the fashion of the day, we have 
 seen him beginning with the classical subjects of i Timon ' and 
 ' Hercules.' The following letters are illustrative of the implicit- 
 ness with which Leslie at first accepted the fashionable faith in 
 the matter of his art, and of his sincere youthful veneration for 
 West, who treated him, as he did all young artists, with genuine 
 kindness, all the greater, no doubt in Leslie's case, for his Amer- 
 ican blood. 
 
 But, for all his classicality, and reverence for authority, Leslie's 
 judgment was not quite asleep, as appears from his criticism on 
 Westall in the following letter. 
 
 London, Sept. Uth, 1812. 
 
 Dear Betsey, — I was much disappointed at not hearing 
 what effect the rescinding of the orders in council had in America. 
 It is fully expected here that an amicable adjustment will take 
 place. Mr. Morse has been in the country for this week past ; 
 and in my solitary situation, a letter from you would have been 
 the greatest possible treat to me. As soon as he returns, we 
 shall take a little trip to Hampton Court, Windsor, &c. 
 
 I have finished my pictures of ' Timon ' and ' Hercules,' and 
 am now painting a portrait (Mr. West of Salem, Massachusetts) 
 and one of Mr. Inskeep. The head of the former, which is 
 finished, Allston says is by far the best thing I have done. I 
 have been to Westall's house to look at his pictures ; you recol- 
 lect Sully told me I should find some clever things amongst 
 them, and indeed I was much pleased with many parts of his 
 works, and fancied that he showed the feeling of a poet in many 
 of his inventions. 
 
 But I, no doubt, often admired when I should have condemned, 
 for his style is very specious and imposing, and I have frequently 
 found that when I have been dazzled at first sight by the gaudi- 
 ness of his colouring, upon looking into the picture I have been 
 
182 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 astonished at his want of real science. In his flesh, though very 
 unequal, he seems always at the same distance from nature. He 
 is either too hot, too cold, too red, too gray, or too yellow. Some 
 of his figures, particularly children, appear to have their deepest 
 shadows made of vermilion alone, others have so great a propor- 
 tion of gray or blue tints that one almost freezes to look at them. 
 When free from other faults his flesh often inclines too much to 
 purple. I should call him a mannerist in every part of his art. 
 He is mannered where it is the least pardonable, in the character 
 and air of his heads, and in the grace of his figures ; dreadfully 
 so hi his draperies, which all appear carved from stone. 
 
 His faults seem to arise chiefly from a wish to improve upon 
 nature, not knowing that what generally goes by the name of 
 improving upon nature, is nothing more than being able to select 
 all that is good from her, and that to obtain this end the artist 
 cannot have too much intercourse with her. Now he seems to 
 attempt it by avoiding her as much as possible. His style of 
 painting is showy, and perhaps pleasing to those who are not in 
 the habit of thinking when they look at a picture : — but to those 
 of real taste (which Sir Joshua says, ' is nothing more than an 
 appetite for truth '), his pictures must seem meretricious, and in- 
 stead of possessing only those casual faults which are to be met 
 with in every work of art, appear to be built entirely upon a 
 foundation of error. The consequence is, that as his figures 
 have a kind of fashionable appearance, they will please a few 
 as long as the present fashions last, and then be forgotten. While 
 painting Mr. West's portrait, I called to see Owen's pictures, who 
 stands very high as a portrait painter. He has not so much skill 
 as Lawrence in the drawing of his heads, nor is he so happy in 
 improving their expression, but he certainly colours better, and 
 the subordinate parts of his pictures, his draperies, &c, are paint- 
 ed with more truth. I find it a great advantage to me to go thus 
 constantly to the houses of artists and look at their pictures, par- 
 ticularly when I am about anything of the same kind myself. I 
 expect Mr. West will make me some compensation for painting 
 him, and whatever he gives me I shall lay out in buying a collec- 
 tion of prints, particularly the heads of Van Dyk and Sir Joshua. 
 
 I suppose the last volumes of Miss Edgeworth's i Tales ' have 
 
1812.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 183 
 
 not yet appeared in America. I have just read one of them con- 
 taining i Vivian,? and I need only say that I think it quite equal 
 to any other of her works to give you an idea of its excellence. 
 There are two other volumes which I have not yet been able to 
 get from the library. If you have not already got them I know 
 it will gratify you to hear of their appearance in the present 
 dearth of anything good in the book way. By the bye, it is said 
 Walter Scott is just going to publish another poem ; what it is I 
 have not heard. 
 
 I have not been for some time at any of the theatres. Covent 
 Garden is again opened, but as they have lost Mrs. Siddons and 
 Kemble, I feel very little inclination to go there. My hopes now 
 rest on Drury Lane, which is to open next month, and which will, 
 I suppose, totally eclipse its " huge classical rival " as they have 
 engaged both Kemble and Elliston. I have been to Sadler's 
 Wells to see the Aquatic scene, that is so much talked of. Ex- 
 cepting by Grimaldi (the clown), I was very little entertained. I 
 take but little delight in pantomime changes, which, to do them 
 justice, they manage here in the greatest perfection. The after- 
 piece was a melodrama, the dialogue of which was in blank verse, 
 with now and then a foolish rhyme coming out in order to call it 
 recitative.* The water scene pleased me better than I expected, 
 it represented a castle with a moat and drawbridge ; the castle of 
 course attacked by troops who came on in boats. Many of the 
 combatants contrived to get themselves into the water by the 
 breaking of the drawbridge, where they fought up to their chins. 
 This theatre is quite small, and ornamented in the most showy 
 manner, with a plentiful lack of taste. I lately had the pleasure 
 of seeing their mightiness the mob in all their glory at Bartholo- 
 mew Fair, and really such a scene of riot and confusion I never 
 before beheld. * * * 
 
 " When the news of Lord Wellington's victory at Salamanca 
 arrived, there were universal illuminations for several nights. I 
 did not, however, go to any of the public buildings where I might 
 have seen them in their greatest perfection. I am now sorry 
 I did not go to the Admiralty, where the standards were dis- 
 
 * This was necessary, to evade the penalties for infringement of the patent 
 right of the two great Theatres. 
 
184 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 played that were taken from the enemy. Had I gone out on 
 those nights, I should have seen the mobility in their highest 
 glory. Mr. Inskeep and another gentleman, passing Somerset 
 House, in a hackney-coach, were made to pull off their hats, and 
 not content with this, the rabble forced open the coach door, and 
 threw in squibs, &c, until they set fire to the straw in the bottom. 
 
 Mr. Inskeep had one of his whiskers burnt off (what a loss !) 
 and was struck on the breast by a fire-brand which, " dismal hor- 
 ror to relate," burnt through his waistcoat. I am told, that one 
 of their civilest tricks was firing off a pistol between the heads of 
 any two well-dressed people that happened to be walking together. 
 In Fitzroy Square, opposite to us, they had a cannon which they 
 kept constantly firing, with lesser accompaniments on the blunder- 
 buss, pistols, &c, to our great amusement. Captain and Mrs. 
 Visscher have sailed about a week ago for America. Morse and 
 myself feel their loss very much, as they were extremely atten- 
 tive and kind to us. If they may be taken as a sample of the 
 New England people, I am inclined to have a much better opin- 
 ion of them than I ever had before. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Allston are the only friends we have left that are 
 very near us, and if I were to lose the society of Mr. Allston, I 
 should not wish to remain any longer in England. Since Morse 
 has been among us he {%. e. Allston) has very kindly spent every 
 evening with me. He is advancing very rapidly with his large pic- 
 ture and will be able to exhibit it in the British Institution next 
 year, where it will, no doubt, obtain the prize of 400 guineas, be- 
 sides standing a good chance of its being sold. Sir George Beau- 
 mont (one of the first connoisseurs of the day, and who is in fact an 
 excellent artist himself), having seen the outline, wrote to Mr. 
 Allston a very complimentary letter from his country seat, and 
 concluded by requesting him to paint a small picture of some 
 church, for which he offered him 200Z. Mr. Brown (whom, I 
 believe, I mentioned in a former letter) has been very attentive 
 to Morse and myself. He mentioned to me, the last time I 
 saw him, that he should like me to spend a few days at Snares- 
 brook, and paint Mrs. Brown and her dog, which is a great 
 favourite, as they have no children. The last time I dined there, 
 I met Mr. Zantzinger, a brother to J. Barton. He told me he 
 
1812.] LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. ISiy 
 
 had my plate of Blisset and Jefferson,* which he would show me, 
 but I have not yet called on him. I have become acquainted with 
 a Mr. Coate, from Montreal. He is originally from Philadelphia, 
 and is related to the Cotes' family, though he spells his name 
 differently. He has been a clergyman and has travelled among 
 the Indians as a missionary, but being of a consumptive habit he 
 was obliged to give up preaching, and is here publishing a num- 
 ber of specimens of ornamental penmanship, which indeed, are 
 the most elegant things of the kind I ever saw. He brought out 
 letters to many of the nobility, Sir Wm. Beechey has particularly 
 interested himself in obtaining him subscribers, and Mr. West has 
 been a great friend to him. He obtained permission for Morse 
 and myself to look at a very fine collection of pictures, which 
 are about to be sold. Among them is one of the finest of 
 Claude's landscapes, two very fine Titians, several Guidos, a 
 Portrait and a Madonna by Van Dyk, a large Rubens, and a 
 number of small Flemish paintings, a ' Danae ' by Corrcggio, 
 and a great number of other pictures. 
 
 This Mr. Coate lives in Warren Street, which is very near us. 
 He appears to be a very friendly, good-hearted, pleasant man. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 During this year Leslie and his friend Morse were lodged to- 
 gether at No. 8, Buckingham Place, Fitzroy Square, in " the very 
 centre of almost all the artists in London," to which Leslie re- 
 moved from his first lodgings in Warren Street, in the same 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 London, Sep. 29, 1812. 
 " Dear Betsey, — Mr. West has kindly consented to take 
 charge of my i Hercules ' and ' Timon of Athens,' which I have 
 sent with his own portrait to Mr. Bradford, and which I suppose 
 will be in the next exhibition. I called a few days since, with 
 the portrait of Mr. West and the ' Hercules,' on Sir Wm. 
 Beechey, who is extremely kind in giving advice to young artists. 
 However, I must say I received very little encouragement from 
 
 * Portraits painted by Leslie in Philadelphia ( V) 
 
186 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1812. 
 
 him, as he pointed out innumerable faults, and not one part in 
 which I had succeeded. He looked principally at the portrait, as 
 the other was not so much in his line of painting. Sir William 
 is extremely open and candid even to bluntness. He told me 
 when I was coming away, that whenever I wanted another set 
 down he would be very happy to accommodate me. I shall 
 certainly call frequently on him, although I must confess I felt 
 somewhat dispirited, yet I consider it very wholesome chastise- 
 ment, and am certain that I shall benefit much from it. 
 
 Allston tells me that when he was in England before, he 
 showed a picture to Sir William, who said to him, " Sir, that is 
 not flesh but mud ; it is as much mud as if you had taken it out 
 of the kennel and painted your picture." * * I afterwards took 
 my picture to Mr. West, from whom I received more encourage- 
 ment, for though he pointed out a great many errors in my ' Her- 
 cules,' he gave me praise for the left leg and foot. If Tom, his 
 still surviving brother, is present at the unpacking of my pictures, 
 he will perceive on the back of ' Hercules ' a ball drawn by Mr. 
 West himself, who was explaining to me his principle for the 
 light and shadow and colour, and by this simple diagram he can 
 assign his reasons for the arrangement of every part of his im- 
 mense pictures. Mr. West kept me for several hours while he 
 illustrated all he said in the clearest manner by constantly recur- 
 ring to nature. I really pitied the poor porter who carried my 
 pictures there, and whom Mr. West used as a model, placing him 
 in various lights, and poking at him with his mahl-stick to point 
 out the different effects of light and shadow upon him. 
 
 He directed me how I might alter my ' Hercules ' to the best 
 advantage, and I worked on it till the very day it was packed 
 up. * * * I am going to paint another ' Hercules ' for Mr. Coate, 
 who has offered to pay for my models, canvasses, &c. 
 
 I have finished his portrait, Which is thought extremely like, 
 and I am now about one of Mr. Earle, and a small one of my- 
 self, which will, I think, be like. Mr. West gave me six pounds 
 for his picture which I have laid out in prints of Van Dyk's 
 and Sir Joshua Reynolds's portraits, and a few from Raphael. 
 Among the Sir Joshuas are Ins ' Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic 
 Muse,' and his 'Infant Academy,' two of his finest works. 
 
1813.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 187 
 
 Among the Raphaels is his ' Incendio del Borgo/ which Sir 
 Joshua speaks of in his Lectures. 
 
 1813. 
 
 . Pictures Painted this Year. 
 
 Murder: Macbeth, Act IL, Scene 1. — Portrait of Mr. Emlen, of Phila- 
 delphia. (Exhibited at the Royal Academy.) 
 
 The following letters for this year need no introduction or con- 
 necting remark. What Leslie says in that of May of the neces- 
 sity that a picture should tell some scriptural or classic story in 
 order to insure it " currency," shows the cramping influence of 
 the conventionalism of that day. One may remark too on the 
 rise, shown by the letters of this year, in the level of the painter's 
 studies. The eighteen-year-old lad of last year was content with 
 his subscription to the Bond Street circulating library. He tells 
 his sister only of the novels he is reading. This year his studies 
 lie in Homer, Milton, and Dante, among the poets ; while Smol- 
 lett and Swift are his prose authors. Then, too, he has made the 
 acquaintance of Coleridge. With such books and such compan- 
 ionship it is not to be wondered at if we find Leslie at nineteen 
 ripening gradually into juster appreciation both of the painters 
 and the Art-maxims of the day. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, Feb. 25, 1813. 
 Your letter by the ' Catharine Ray ' came duly to hand, and 
 was doubly welcome to me, as I had not heard from you for a 
 very long time. I rejoice to hear you like King so well, and I 
 sincerely hope he will get business in Philadelphia. I think his 
 close intimacy with Sully will be of very great advantage to him. 
 You will perceive that King's greatest excellence is in his colour- 
 ing of flesh. His drawing is very correct, and his heads are gen- 
 erally very like ; but they have not always a happiness of ex- 
 
188 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1313. 
 
 pression, and his attitudes generally want ease. Now in these 
 two points Sully is very excellent, and as they are not to be 
 imparted by rules, King will be more likely to acquire a feeling 
 for them by having pictures that possess them constantly before 
 him than he would by any other means. He is also deficient in 
 the management of draperies, which Sully paints very beauti- 
 fully. Since Mr. Inskeep's picture I have begun a picture for 
 the Exhibition at Somerset House. I scarcely know what name 
 to give it, but the subject was suggested by these lines from 
 Shakespeare : — 
 
 now wither' d Murder 
 
 Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, 
 Who howls his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, 
 With Tarquin's ravishing stride, towards his design 
 Moves like a ghost . 
 
 I have represented an assassin stealing from a cave at midnight, 
 with a drawn sword in one hand, and holding his breath with the 
 other. The horizon is formed by the sea, and the moon, just 
 rising, illuminates the distance and middle ground, while the 
 figure is quite in shadow against the light sky and sea. All the 
 foreground is also in shadow, produced by a projection of the rock. 
 I have modelled a head in clay for my figure, and made a small 
 sketch of the whole. The picture will be the same size as my 
 ' Hercules.' As it will be necessary to send it to the Academy in 
 the beginning of April, and I wish to bestow every possible pains 
 on it, it will occupy every moment of time till that period. Morse 
 and I intend going to Hampton Court as soon as we have sent 
 our pictures in, and Allston having promised to accompany us, we 
 shall have a very pleasant little jaunt. The exhibition at the 
 British Gallery is now open, and I have been twice to it, but as I 
 intend writing an account of some of the principal pictures to 
 King, who will communicate it to you, I shall say nothing here 
 of them. As soon as this Exhibition closes, they are to open one 
 consisting of all the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds in this country, 
 which are to be borrowed for the purpose from the different pos- 
 sessors of them. I esteem myself particularly fortunate that I am 
 here at this time, for if it was not for this collection, I should, no 
 doubt, miss seeing a great many of these treasures. I only regret 
 
1813.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 189 
 
 that my advancement is not sufficient, at present, for me to profit 
 from them as much as I might hope to do in a few more years. 
 
 A new tragedy has appeared at Drury Lane this season called 
 1 Remorse,' though no doubt you will have heard of, if not re- 
 ceived, it before you get this. It is by Coleridge, who I believe 
 I have before told you is an intimate friend of Allston's. As it is 
 many years since a tragedy has been received, and there were no 
 very first-rate performers in this line to support the characters, 
 the author was not very sanguine in his expectations of success. 
 It was received, however, with the most rapturous applause, and 
 has had a very capital run. I went to see it the second or third 
 night, and was quite as well pleased with it as I expected to be 
 from the excellent accounts I had heard of it. Rae, who per- 
 formed the principal male character, I had never seen before ; he 
 is a young man, who after playing with great success at some of 
 the provincial theatres, made his debut in London the beginning 
 of this season. He is a good actor and has much judgment, but 
 fails to seize the feelings and carry one away as Kemble or poor 
 Cooke would have done. When they were on the stage it was 
 impossible to look at or think of any body else. * Each of them 
 seemed to say " I am myself alone ; " but this is not the case 
 with Rae. Allston says the reason of it is, that he has not the 
 proper inflections of the voice. His face appeared good for the 
 stage and capable of great variety of expression ; it seemed to me 
 to have the character of Kemble's, though I was much too far 
 off to distinguish his features, being in the upper row of boxes. 
 His figure, as well as I could see, — it being disguised in a bad 
 dress, — I thought good, though it seemed to me to want impor- 
 tance. It is impossible however to judge of an actor from only 
 once seeing him, and at such a distance, and it is therefore very 
 likely that upon a second and better sight of him I may find my- 
 self mistaken in many respects. Mrs. Glover played Alhadra 
 uncommonly well ; it appeared to me to be the most prominent 
 character in the piece. This lady has, however, not a tragic 
 voice, and very far from a tragic face. She was dressed well, 
 however, and is a commanding figure, though monstrously fat. 
 Elliston in a Moorish dress looked so like Cooper in ' Othello,' 
 that had they both been on the stage I think I should scarcely 
 
190 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1813. 
 
 have known the difference. He played Alvar. As I have very 
 little doubt that you will have read the tragedy when you get this, 
 I have written as if you were acquainted with the characters. I 
 have not yet seen ' Rokeby,' but the truth is, I have applied 
 repeatedly at the library and it is never at home ; it is published 
 in so expensive a form that I cannot purchase it. 
 
 March Sth, 1813. 
 
 As I have just heard of an opportunity, I hasten to close this 
 letter. I should have made it much longer, but owing to the 
 picture I have now on hand at which I am obliged to work very 
 hard, and the lectures at the Academy where I am a constant 
 attendant, and some other things which I will mention another 
 time, I am just at present more engaged than I ever have been 
 since my residence here. Writing letters with me is not a thing 
 that can be done at odd scraps of time, but I must sit down and 
 compose myself to it and collect all my thoughts about me. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan has returned to the stage, and is now playing at 
 Covent Garden. Bannister and Braham are at Drury Lane, and 
 they are now performing some of the finest comedies at both houses. 
 The opposition makes each one'bring forth all their best actors. I 
 have not had time to see either Mrs. Jordan or Bannister, and 
 think I shall not until the Academy closes. Adieu. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, April 4, 1813. 
 
 ****** 
 I expect to go about the middle of next week, with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Allston and Morse, upon a little trip to Hampton Court, 
 Windsor, &c, from which we all promise ourselves much pleasure. 
 I am extremely pleased with young Payne,* who is now here ; 
 from what I have seen of him, I think him very amiable and 
 agreeable, independently of his talents. Mr. and Mrs. Allston 
 knew him and all his family very well in America, and it was 
 
 * Howard Payne, for whose career, see the Autobiography. 
 
1813.J 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 191 
 
 with much pleasure that they renewed their acquaintance with 
 him. 
 
 I am going to paint his portrait when I return from Hampton 
 Court ; we have already taken a plaster cast of his face. I have 
 finished and sent to Somerset House my picture from Shakespeare, 
 which I described in my last letter. A few days before I sent it 
 I took it to Mr. West. He did me the honour to praise it a good 
 deal, and advised me by all means to exhibit it, without which I 
 should not have sent it. He suggested to me to introduce the 
 wolf, howling in an obscure- part of the cave, which he said was 
 necessary to mark the subject. He also advised me to show part 
 of the moon, which was hid by a fragment of rock. Both these 
 things I did, and upon showing it to him again he told me my 
 subject was now complete. From the good opinion Mr. West ex- 
 pressed, I have little doubt it will be admitted. My only fear is, 
 that it will be crammed into some obscure place, or lost amid the 
 blaze of pictures that crowd the great room. There were last 
 year upwards of a thousand pictures exhibited, and, I have heard, 
 about five hundred rejected that were sent there. Mr. West has 
 been painting a picture for the Exhibition which nobody has' yet 
 seen. For a week past he locked himself up entirely, and has 
 been denied to everybody. When I called on him, the servant 
 told me I could not possibly see him ; but I begged him to show 
 him the picture and mention my name ; that if Mr. West, could 
 not see me then, I would call in the evening. I waited in his 
 gallery, and the old gentleman presently came out to me with my 
 picture. He told me that he had shut himself up, but he was 
 so well pleased with my picture that he could not help seeing 
 me. 
 
 I went a short time ago to see Mrs. Jordan in ' As You Like 
 It,' and was quite as much pleased with her as I expected ; in- 
 deed, more so, for I had been taught to expect an immensely fat 
 woman, and she is but moderately so. Her face is still very fine, 
 no print that I ever saw of her is much like. Her performance 
 of Rosalind was in my mind perfect, though I am convinced the 
 character from its nature did not call forth half Mrs. Jordan's 
 powers. I long to see her in the £ Country Girl,' ' Miss Prue,' 
 or something of that kind. The other characters were extremely 
 
192 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1813. 
 
 well supported, particularly Touchstone by Faucett, and Audrey 
 by Mrs. Chas. Kemble, who was even superior to Mrs. Francis. 
 Young played Jacques very well, and Chas. Kemble looked 
 Orlando better than he played it. Incledon played Amiens, 
 and sung Ins songs delightfully. He is one of the worst looking 
 men I ever saw, and has indeed completely the face and figure 
 of a low sailor. He is likewise a wretched actor, and always ap- 
 pears on the stage with that kind of awkward stiffness that arises 
 from a man being in better company than he is accustomed to. 
 He is, however, a very charming singer, and has the most manly, 
 and at the same time, agreeable voice that I ever heard. He 
 was, I am told, in reality a common sailor originally. I have 
 also heard he has other talents than that of singing, and can eat 
 and drink more at a meal than any other man. He was one of 
 poor Cooke's most intimate friends. The nation is at present in 
 mourning for the Duchess of Brunswick. Fortunately for me, I 
 always wear black, so that I am at no trouble on the present 
 occasion. One of my reasons indeed for wearing it was, that I 
 might be prepared for the demise of the King, but that I believe 
 is never to happen. I have not observed more black than usual 
 in the streets, but I am told in company it is always expected. 
 The dress boxes at the theatres exhibit nothing else. The 
 duchess was buried at Windsor (not in state), and I missed 
 seeing the funeral move from her house here, supposing there 
 would be no parade. 
 
 I have lately read the ' Mysteries of Udolpho ' for the first 
 time, and with very great pleasure. I am now going through 
 Homer, Milton, and Dante's works, which every painter should 
 be well acquainted with. 
 
 I suppose you will not believe me when I say that I have not 
 seen ' Rokeby.' I have applied incessantly at the library, but it 
 is always out, and they have constantly promised to send it me, 
 but never have. 
 
 I have lately been made a Student in the Academy, by show- 
 ing a chalk drawing, a skeleton, and an anatomical figure. I have 
 now access to the library every Monday, besides the privilege of 
 wearing my hat in the Academy, and coming in with a greater 
 swagger than before. 
 
1813.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 193 
 
 As the drawing Academy is at present shut, and of course will 
 continue so until the Exhibition closes, I have now resumed 
 drawing at the British Museum every Tuesday and Thursday 
 as I did last summer. Remember to all his friends. 
 
 Your C. R. L. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, May 6, 1813. 
 I had written a long letter to Jane, giving a detail of my jaunt 
 to Windsor, Oxford, and Blenheim, with Mr. and Mrs. Allston 
 and Morse. With this party I was out of town about ten days, 
 and the weather being uncommonly fine made it a very delightful 
 trip. 
 
 Morse's picture of the ' Hercules/ and mine of ' Murder,' are in 
 very excellent situations at Somerset House ; they have already 
 been noticed in a newspaper. The exhibition is very good : the 
 greater part of the pictures here, as usual, are portraits. Mr. 
 West has but one picture, and that is quite small. I long to hear 
 how our little Academy in Philadelphia has got on this year. 
 Morse and I have found, after a good deal of experience, that 
 we cannot paint with as much advantage both in one room, 
 as we could separately ; and I have, therefore, hired a paint- 
 ing-room directly opposite to us. 
 
 It is about twice the size of Morse's, and, being at the back of 
 the house, has of course the same light. I pay 171. a-year for it. 
 Since my return from the country, I have begun a portrait of 
 Payne, which promises to be the best likeness I have ever 
 painted ; and one of a Mr. Emlen, of Philadelphia, who is 
 studying physic here. I have lately been a good deal in com- 
 pany with Coleridge, and have had opportunities of seeing the 
 man as well as the poet. 
 
 I really do not know which most to admire, the goodness of 
 his heart or the soundness of his head. He is a man of the 
 most exquisite feelings, which give a cast of melancholy to his 
 character always visible in his countenance, excepting when he is 
 carried away by sprightly conversation. He has greater collo- 
 quial talents than I have ever before met with, and with the most 
 13 
 
194 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1813. 
 
 consummate eloquence, possessing all the graces of conversation, 
 he exhibits on every subject the deepest philosophical thinking. 
 Allston says, that when in the vein to exercise it, there are no 
 bounds to his wit. He was secretary to Sir Alexander Ball, 
 governor of Malta, during the bombardment of Tripoli, at which 
 place he had an opportunity of seeing many of our naval officers. 
 He was particularly pleased with Decatur, of whom he often 
 speaks in the highest terms as a gentleman and a hero. I am at 
 present hard set to think of a subject for a pretty large picture 
 that I want to paint for the next exhibition. I find that pictures 
 from modern poets do not take, and even if they should, it is 
 uncertain how long they may continue in vogue. To insure a 
 picture currency, therefore, it is necessary that it should tell 
 either some scriptural or classic story. Even Shakespeare, Dante, 
 and Milton, are scarcely sufficiently canonised to be firm ground. 
 
 I have at length read Scott's ' Rokeby,' and was of course very 
 much pleased with it. I must, however, read it again, for the 
 interest the story excited made me gallop to the end as hard as I 
 could, and I had not the opportunity to admire the beauties of 
 imagery, or observe the nicer shades of character that a second 
 reading will afford me. 
 
 I have lately read ' Humphrey Clinker,' for the first time, and 
 liked it exceedingly ; the story of Mr. and Mrs. Baynard is 
 admirable. I have also read Swift's 4 Tale of a Tub,' and 
 ' Battle with the Books,' with great laughter. I have not been 
 at the theatre for a long time until a few nights ago, when I went 
 to see 4 Education/ a new comedy by Morton ; and 4 Aladdin, or 
 the Wonderful Lamp.' The comedy I was not greatly pleased 
 with, although they had lugged into it all the best actors. It 
 appeared to me to be made up from the ' Road to Ruin ' and the 
 ' Sons of Erin.' ' Aladdin ' is a melodrama, and, as you may 
 suppose, splendid in the extreme. With these kind of things 
 they spare no expense at Covent Garden. 
 
1814-16.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 195 
 
 1814. 
 
 Pictures Exhibited this Year. 
 
 The Woman of Endor Raising the Ghost Samuel before Saul. " Then 
 said Samuel, Wherefore then dost thou ask. of me, seeing the Lord is de- 
 parted from thee and is become thine enemy." 1 Samuel, ch. vii. v. 16. 
 (Rejected by the British Institution, but afterwards exhibited at the Royal 
 Academy.) — Portrait of Howard Payne as Norval. 
 
 Leslie, in his 6 Recollections,' speaks of the ' Saul ' as his first 
 large picture, and of its fate in being at first rejected at the 
 British Institution, owing to its unfinished appearance — attrib- 
 uted by the painter to its want of varnish — of its improvement, 
 under the advice of Mr. West, and of its ultimate sale for one hun- 
 dred guineas, to Sir John Leicester, afterwards Lord de Tabley. 
 
 Of Payne and his portrait we have heard already, in the 
 Autobiography, as well as in the letters of 1813. 
 
 I have had entrusted to me no letters of Leslie's for this year, 
 nor for 
 
 1815. 
 
 A Portrait of A Ladt (not exhibited) is the solitary picture 
 recorded for this year. But in the interval between 1813 and 
 1815 he had qualified himself to carry off the two medals at the 
 Academy, which he received in the following year. 
 
 1816. 
 
 Pictures of this Year. 
 
 Death of Rutland. 
 
 Oh, let me pray before I take my death : — 
 To thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me ! 
 Such pity as my rapier's point affords. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Thy father slew my father ; therefore, die ! 
 
 Third Part of Henry VI. Act 1. Scene 3. 
 
 The choice of subject for this year's picture is worth noting. 
 
 Rutland. — 
 Clifford. — 
 
196 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1816. 
 
 It was Leslie's first venture on his most congenial work — the 
 illustration of our English classics. From this time we hear no 
 more from him of the antique and the classical in subjects. 
 Shakespeare, Cervantes, Moliere, Le Sage, Addison, Fielding, 
 Goldsmith, and Smollett, are henceforth to prompt the young 
 painter's conceptions. He followed his bent in choosing this 
 field, and speedily displayed his real power of keenly apprehend- 
 ing and gracefully representing characters and humours in the 
 creations of those great masters. But the incident of this picture 
 of 1816 was a painful one, the murder of the young son of 
 Plantagenet by the revengeful Clifford. Sir Edwin Landseer, 
 then a curly-headed youngster, dividing his time between Polito's 
 wild-beasts at Exeter Change and the Royal Academy Schools, 
 tells me that he sat for the pleading boy, with a rope round his 
 wrists. Leslie appears to have thought more of his conception 
 of the murderer than of that of the victim, for he speaks of the 
 picture as " my Clifford." The picture was sent to Philadelphia, 
 and, to his great gratification, purchased by the Academy of his 
 native place. 
 
 It was in this year that the controversy as to the Elgin marbles 
 raged so loudly, on the occasion of their purchase by the Govern- 
 ment. Haydon was foremost in blowing the flames of the con- 
 troversy, and fiercely sounding the praises of these divine works, 
 as he has fully recorded in his Autobiography. The casts to 
 which Leslie alludes in his letter of June 3rd, were probably casts 
 from the moulds of the Theseus, Ilyssus, and other fragments, 
 taken under Haydon's direction. 
 
 London, June 3rd, 1816. 
 
 Dear Betsey, — I have just received your letter of April 
 23rd, by the ' Superior.' I am on every account delighted with 
 the sale of Mr. Allston's large picture to the Academy, first, for 
 the service to so excellent a man, then for the promise it gives of 
 encouragement for historical painting in America, and lastly, for 
 the honour it does to the city of Philadelphia. I have lately 
 been leading quite a dissipated life, and having spent almost every 
 evening out for some time past, I have let a longer time elapse 
 
1816.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 197 
 
 since writing to you than I ought, or wished to have done, winch 
 I hope you will excuse with your usual goodness. I have heard 
 a debate in the House of Commons, and have been to the opera 
 for the first and, I think, last time. At the former place I heard 
 Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Vansittart, Mr. Brougham, &c, speak, 
 and saw Sir Francis Burdett. At the latter I heard Braham, 
 Madame Foder, Signor Naldi, &c, sing, but at both places the 
 acting was so bad, and the people appeared so little like what 
 they represented, that I grew very tired of listening to them. 
 Imagine, if you can, Lord Castlereagh, that great diplomatist and 
 negotiator, in the likeness of a Bond-street lounger, blue cossack 
 pantaloons gathered in front like the old English dresses, a blue 
 coat, the skirts and pockets edged with white and black, and a 
 black velvet collar ! — rather a small man, with something of a 
 fashionable lisp. Mr. Brougham, leader of the Opposition, the 
 thunders of whose eloquence must have reached America long 
 ago, is as follows.* The room in which they meet is very small 
 and plain, and by no means gives an idea of a place in which the 
 affairs of a great nation are settled. I had here an opportunity 
 that never occurred to me before, that of hearing several genuine 
 Irish bulls, made by a member of the house. The Opera House 
 is the most splendid theatre I was ever in. Each box is separated 
 by a crimson curtain, which gives a most magnificent appearance 
 to the whole. I sat in the gallery, which is quite a respectable 
 place, and nearly as expensive as the boxes at the other theatres. 
 It reminded me of * Evelina and the Branghtons.' I had an 
 English translation of the piece (which was called { La Cosa 
 Rara ') in my hand, so that I could understand the performers, 
 but the acting was so execrable that it destroyed all the effect of 
 the music, excepting in some of the songs. A few nights ago I had 
 a ticket given me for a private concert at Lady Saltoun's, near 
 Grosvenor Square, where I had an opportunity of mingling with 
 lords and ladies for a few hours. There were stars glittering on 
 the breasts of gentlemen, and diamonds on the necks of ladies, and 
 to say the truth, the ladies had need of them, for I never saw a 
 more ordinary set. They reminded me of those subordinate 
 characters in Miss Edgeworth's novels, in which she is so happy. 
 * A pen-and-ink sketch followed. 
 
198 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1816. 
 
 Some of the music was very fine, particularly a duet by two 
 French girls, which was divine. They had taste enough to 
 encore it, and I could have listened to it all night. I had also the 
 pleasure of again hearing Drouet, the celebrated performer on 
 the flute. I felt that this was the proper way to enjoy music, one 
 such concert to me is worth fifty operas with the same performers. 
 "When the ear is delighted, nothing else is wanted. Scenery, 
 gesture, costume, and everything of that kind, hurts the effect 
 instead of improving it. Fine music always carries me into 
 other regions, but at the opera I felt chained down to the earth. 
 Some time ago, I went to see a new tragedy (' Bertram '), which 
 bears some resemblance to Lord Byron's < Corsair.' It is written 
 by the author of the < Milesian.' We were very near the stage, 
 where I could enjoy and appreciate Kean's acting. He has the dis- 
 advantage of a small person, but with an amazing power of ex- 
 pression in his face. He is less noble and dignified than Kemble, 
 but I think his genius is as great in its way. Every word he 
 utters is full of power, and I know not whether he most excels 
 in the terrific or in the tender and pathetic. His face, though 
 not handsome, is picturesque, and the manner in which he wore 
 his hair was peculiarly so. 
 
 * 
 
 The above sketch, though caricatured, is a little like him. A 
 few nights ago, Mrs. Siddons performed Queen Katharine for 
 Charles' Kemble's benefit. I could not resist the temptation of 
 going, and actually endangered my life to see her, in a most tre- 
 mendous crowd. She played gloriously, so as to bring back all 
 my former recollections of her. She is very little altered, and I 
 believe there are hopes of her return to the stage. Kemble 
 played Cardinal Wolsey in his best manner, and his voice was in 
 excellent condition. This play is got up in the most classical and 
 magnificent style. The banquet scene was splendid in the ex- 
 treme, and Anne Boleyn was performed by Miss Foster (a per- 
 fectly beautiful girl). Egerton who played Harry resembles his 
 person, and was dressed precisely like the pictures and statues of 
 him. Charles Kemble played Cromwell; by the by he is no 
 great actor ; the only character I ever liked him in was Falcon- 
 * Here followed a pen-and-ink sketch. 
 
1816.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 199 
 
 bridge. I am in great hopes of getting an introduction to Mrs. 
 Siddons, to make a sketch of her face, through Payne. How- 
 ever, there are many difficulties in the way, as she is as much of 
 the Princess off the stage as she is on. Payne knows Charles 
 Kemble very well, but Charles is not sufficiently intimate with 
 his sister to take the liberty of asking such a favour of her. He 
 did not even ask her to play for his benefit. I am therefore in 
 hopes of obtaining it through John Kemble. Mr. Coleridge is at 
 present here ; he has just published his poem of ' Cristabel.' 
 He lives at Highgate (about three miles from us) in a most de- 
 lightful family. He requested me to sketch his face, which I did, 
 out there, and by that means became acquainted with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Gilman, who are the sort of people that you become inti- 
 mate with at once. They have invited me in the most friendly 
 manner to visit them at all times, and to spend weeks with them. 
 There are some beautiful scenes about Highgate, and I shall in 
 future make it my resort for landscape studies. Mrs. Gilman has 
 a very fine face, and she will sit to me whenever I wish. She is 
 a very excellent, charming woman ; and to do the English jus- 
 tice, I believe hers is not an uncommon character among them. 
 I have met with four such women myself, and I think I could 
 right safely add more to the number, and my English acquaint- 
 ance is not very extensive. If I had any right to speak from my 
 limited observation, I should say, that the women here far ex- 
 ceed the men in virtue. Caroline Percy, Belinda, and Grace 
 Nugent, are, I am convinced, not ideal characters. They have 
 just opened a very fine exhibition of the Italian masters at the 
 British Gallery. It contains two of the cartoons of Raphael,* 
 and a cabinet picture by him of Saint Catherine, which is the 
 most divine head I have ever seen, one or two fine Titians, a 
 number of glorious Paul Veroneses, and all the original cartoons 
 of the heads of Leonardo da Vinci's * Last Supper,' which give 
 me a higher opinion of him than anything I have seen, and, 
 though last not least, some very fine Claudes, Salvators, and 
 Poussins. This exhibition affords a most delicious treat to us 
 
 * Got up from Hampton Court, Haydon says — in his biography — at his 
 suggestion. — Ed. 
 
200 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1816. 
 
 artists,* and I hope some of the best pictures will be left at the 
 close of it, for the students to copy. I shall soon send to Sully a 
 little oil copy from a Paul Veronese, which I think he will find 
 useful. I am going on much as usual. Portrait is the order of 
 the day. 
 
 I have just received a long and kind letter from Mr. Bradford, 
 which I shall answer immediately. I shall be extremely glad to 
 see Henry Carey, and shall render him every service in my 
 power. Remember me affectionately to him when you see him. 
 Nothing has occurred to alter my determination of returning 
 at the time I have fixed ; on the contrary, I grow more and 
 more anxious for its approach, and the sale of Mr. Allston's pic- 
 ture has very much brightened my prospects. 
 
 I am exceedingly anxious that our Academy should send for 
 casts from the finest Antiques in the world, which are now in 
 London, and were brought from Athens by Lord Elgin. I have 
 written to Sully on the subject, and hope he will exert his in- 
 fluence with them to that end. It will be an incalculable advan- 
 tage to our artists, and their being in Philadelphia would make 
 me quite content to fix my residence there for the remainder of 
 my life. I know an artist f who says, he thanks God every 
 morning that he did not die before they arrived in England. 
 
 Tell Sully that I entreat him not to lose a moment's time in 
 persuading the Academy to procure them. He will look upon 
 their arrival as a sure prognostic of the rise of the Arts among 
 us. We want to establish a correct public taste, and I know 
 nothing so likely to do it. I sent Sully an extract from one of 
 the weekly papers upon the subject of them,| since which there 
 has appeared in the last number of the ' Quarterly Review ' a 
 full account of them, which I wish he could obtain a sight of. 
 No doubt many of his acquaintances receive that work. Fare- 
 well, remember me as usual to all relations and friends. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 * This was the first year in which such an opportunity of copying was 
 given. — Ed. 
 t Haydon. — Ed. 
 
 | One of Haydon's articles from the ' Examiner.' — Ed. 
 
1816.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 201 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, Dec. 12, 1816. 
 
 I have just received your letters of October 8th and 19th, 
 rendered doubly welcome by so long an interval since the last. 
 
 I am glad to hear of the safe arrival of the pictures, and still 
 more so that the Academy is inclined to purchase my Clifford. 
 Tell Sully I will accept the thousand dollars in preference to the 
 other proposal. Your criticisms on the picture are very just. I 
 am only afraid that your diffidence as to your own judgment pre- 
 vents your pointing out many other faults that you see. Do not 
 be afraid of saying exactly what you think. I am used to having 
 my pictures remarked on, and when people can see some merit in 
 them it does not annoy me to have a great many faults pointed 
 out ; on the contrary I have, in most instances, reason to be 
 pleased with it. Your commendations were very gratifying to 
 me, as they were bestowed upon those parts of my picture which 
 I was best satisfied with myself. I think, therefore, they were 
 just, though somewhat too warm, from the natural and amiable 
 prejudice of a sister, and from your not having had opportunities 
 of seeing a great deal of art. You will be pleased to hear that 
 the silver medal which I was a candidate for has been awarded to 
 me. The evening of the 10th, I received it from the hand of 
 Mr. Fuseli, who presided in Mr. West's absence (on account of 
 ill-health). The copying at the British Gallery is over. I have 
 finished my Paul Veronese. It is rather a pleasant mode of 
 study, and has considerable advantages. There were thirty 
 artists there on an average every day, eight or ten of them 
 ladies. It is useful to see the different modes of painting that 
 are practised, and to hear the various opinions that are advanced. 
 From those that are better and further advanced than myself, I 
 have learnt in many instances what to aim at, and from those that 
 are inferior what to avoid. There were two of the cartoons left 
 there, but I had not time to make any studies from them. My 
 principal pursuit at present is colour, and I find there is more to 
 be learned in that from the Venetians than all the other schools 
 put together. They have a painting-school at the Academy now, 
 
202 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1816. 
 
 on a similar plan to that at the Gallery, and they have lately re- 
 ceived one of the cartoons, the Death of Ananias, — one of the 
 finest — from Hampton Court. There is a picture there of Mr. 
 West's, — a Head by Guido, — which I am going to copy for 
 Mr. MacMurtrie. 
 
 I lately requested to see Fuseli's pictures at the Academy. 
 He received me very politely and took me into his painting-room. 
 He is at present about a picture of Perseus flying off with the 
 head of Medusa. The figure of Medusa is very happily con- 
 ceived, and he has contrived to hide all the disgusting part, — the 
 stump of the neck and the blood, — very judiciously. He has in 
 his room the finest picture I ever saw of his, ' The Lazar House,' 
 I believe from Milton. It is one of the most tremendous exhi- 
 bitions of appalling sights I ever beheld. The figures glare 
 across the picture like a horrible dream. He has certainly never 
 been equalled in the visionary, and there it is he shines as a 
 genius, but whenever he attempts commonplace he is contemp- 
 tible. 
 
 Fuseli, I believe, never has painted from nature, and conse- 
 quently does not know what it is. His illustrations of Cowper 
 are ridiculous in the extreme. He is a great master of light and 
 shadow, and colour, as far as it can be made an engine of the ter- 
 rific. His paintings are very coarse, and have an uncertain kind 
 of execution which is very fine in ghosts and witches, but very 
 bad in gentlemen and ladies. Turner, however, is my great 
 favourite of all the painters here. 
 
 I went to see his pictures yesterday, and was delighted as I 
 always am with them. He combines the highest poetical imagi- 
 nation with an exquisite feeling for all the truth and individuality 
 of nature, and he has shown that the ideal, as it is called, is not 
 the improving of nature, but the selecting and combining objects 
 i that are most in harmony and character with each other. To 
 wind up the matter, I will sketch the heads of the two great men 
 I have been describing.* Alas ! I have failed in the likeness of 
 Turner ; the other is Fuseli, and though a little in caricature, 
 gives some idea of him. His front face has very much the char- 
 acter of a lion. I find I have written about one subject only, 
 * Here follow two pen-and-ink sketches. 
 
1817.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 203 
 
 and that though the most interesting to me may not be equally 
 so to you, and so good bye. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, Dec. 23, 1816. 
 
 My last letter I believe was solely about the Arts. There 
 were several other things I had intended to say in it when I 
 began, but I soon found myself over head and ears in paint, and 
 accordingly reserved them for another letter. 
 
 I am very much pleased with the subject you proposed in your 
 last, of William Tell, and shall probably paint it some time or 
 other. It will be very difficult to compose it. 
 
 I have often intended to ask my mother for a description of 
 the places where my father lived, and where Tom and I were 
 born. I wish she may recollect the numbers of the houses. I 
 remember that just before we sailed, we had lodgings in Cheap- 
 side, at a china shop. I think the name of the people was 
 Anice, but I have looked in vain for such a name or such a shop 
 in Cheapside. I should like also to know the church in which I 
 was christened. * * * * I often amuse myself by dreaming of 
 my return, and how you will all look, and what you will all say : 
 delightful reveries — 
 
 When I think of my own native land, 
 In a moment I seem to be there ; 
 But alas ! recollection at hand, 
 Soon hurries me back to . 
 
 no, not to "despair," but to old England. Farewell for the 
 present. Remember me to all friends and relations. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 1817. 
 
 Pictures of this Year. 
 
 Portraits Painted at Paris of Miss Weller, Mrs. Carnes, Mr. 
 Green, and other Americans. 
 
 Leslie exhibited no picture at the Academy this year, though 
 
204 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1817. 
 
 lie painted the above enumerated portraits of his countrymen and 
 women during a visit to Paris, where he spent two months. He 
 made the excursion in company with his friends Allston and Wil- 
 liam Collins, afterwards the Royal Academician. In a letter to 
 his sister, of September 22, after describing their journey, via 
 Brighton and Dieppe, he says, — 
 
 " The day after our arrival we were not able to get into the 
 Louvre, and we visited the church of Notre Dame, a fine Gothic 
 structure, but inferior to Westminster Abbey. The following day 
 we went to the Louvre, and revelled all the morning in the rich- 
 est luxury of art. It is impossible for me to describe my feel- 
 ings ; had my whole life before been one of misery, it seemed as 
 if this day would have balanced the account, and made me con- 
 sider myself the happiest of human beings. But all this may 
 appear to you extravagant, and perhaps is so ; but as I believe 
 that in many instances it is of advantage to be led away by our 
 feelings (provided they do not lead us away from our duties), I 
 gave myself entirely up to them. In the cartoons of Raphael, I 
 had before had frequent opportunities of seeing all that part of 
 the art which addresses itself to the mind, and now I saw, in its 
 fullest perfection, all that part which can delight the eye, in the 
 picture of the ' Marriage at Cana ' by Paul Veronese. It is an 
 immense picture, about thirty feet by twenty, and the figures are 
 as large as life. The colouring is quite -perfect, and far exceeds 
 any picture of the kind that I have ever seen, or expect to see. 
 There are many other very fine pictures, and, it must be owned, 
 a great deal of trash, which has been substituted for the pictures 
 which were removed. The gallery itself is a most splendid 
 building, and does very great honour to the nation it belongs to." 
 
 Of this year, too, is the first letter I find from him addressed to 
 his friend Washington Irving. It would seem from allusions to the 
 ' Dutch Courtship,' and other passages in this letter, to have been 
 already settled that a series of illustrations to ' Knickerbocker 1 
 and the ' Sketch Book ' were to be executed by Allston and 
 Leslie. We shall find frequent references to this work in a 
 year or two. 
 
1817.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 205 
 
 London, Dec. 20, 1817. 
 
 My Dear Sir, — I ought to be very clever at making apolo- 
 gies for delaying to answer the letters of my friends, if practice 
 is as useful in this as in other things ; but I am really quite at a 
 loss in the present instance, for the truth is I have no excuse to 
 offer but laziness, which is inexcusable. I shall therefore plead 
 guilty, and hope that as the fault carries with it the heavy pun- 
 ishment of its own consciousness, you will forgive me. 
 
 I arrived in London about three weeks ago, by the way of Brus- 
 sels and Antwerp, after a very gratifying, and I hope profitable, 
 residence of two months in Paris. The Louvre is more rich 
 than I expected. I painted a portrait of Miss Weller, but as I 
 did not come back direct, I left it, with some sketches I made in 
 the Louvre, to be sent after me, and they have not yet arrived. 
 
 I had the pleasure of meeting Preston there ; he gave me 
 some very interesting descriptions of scenes that you enjoyed to- 
 gether in Scotland. You must have been very much delighted 
 with the society of Edinburgh. I hope your tour has roused you 
 into the writing mood. 
 
 I have put the sketch of the 1 Dutch Courtship ' into the hands 
 of a very excellent engraver. It will be done in two months ; the 
 price will be twenty-five guineas, which is not high for the style 
 in which he will do it. 
 
 Mr. Allston is afraid that his drawing cannot be reduced with- 
 out losing the expression, and intends therefore doing another of 
 the size of mine as soon as he can choose a subject. He has not 
 yet got to work on his large picture, but has just finished a very 
 grand and poetical figure of the angel Uriel sitting in the sun. 
 The figure is colossal, the attitude and air very noble, and the 
 form heroic without being overcharged. In the colour he has 
 been equally successful, and with a very rich and glowing tone 
 he has avoided positive colours, which would have made him too 
 material. There is neither red, blue, nor yellow in the picture, 
 and yet it possesses a harmony equal to the best pictures of Paul 
 Veronese. I hope you will be in London ere long to see it. I 
 cannot in this letter make any observations on ' Jacob's Dream,' 
 
206 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1818. 
 
 but I will write to you again very soon, and in the meantime, 
 endeavour to put together some remarks upon painting gener- 
 ally. 
 
 We met Verplank at Paris, whom we found a very agreeable 
 and intelligent companion. I painted there the portraits of Mrs. 
 Carnes, a pretty countrywoman of ours, and Mr. Green. I am 
 at present engaged in the same way here, and shall probably do 
 nothing else till my return to America, which I expect will be in 
 the spring, when I hope to undertake the plans I communicated 
 to you when you were in London. 
 
 Allston sends his warmest regards to you, in which he is 
 heartily joined by 
 
 Yours, very truly, 
 
 Chas. R. Leslie. 
 
 To Washington Irving, Esq., 
 
 At Henry Van Wart's, Esq., 
 Birmingham. 
 
 1818. 
 
 Pictures of this Year. 
 
 Anne Page and Master Slender. (Not exhibited). — Girl with Dead 
 Bird. (Not exhibited.) 
 
 As to the former,* which was no doubt the first conception of 
 the more important picture on this subject, which he painted and 
 exhibited in 1825, I find nothing in the correspondence under the 
 date of this year, except the allusion to it in the following letter 
 from "Washington Irving, who was now at Birmingham, in very 
 bad health, and labouring under great depression of spirits. Leslie 
 had no doubt written to tell his friend of the progress of the illus- 
 
 * I think it likely to have been the first engraved picture of Leslie's, from 
 the ' Merry Wives of Windsor.' The engraving is by Finden. The scene is in 
 Page's garden, where Anne invites Slender in to dinner. He stands with 
 crossed legs lackadaisically, and turns his back on Anne, who points towards 
 the house. The Slender has a great deal of character. The Anne Page is 
 conventional, and smacks of George the Third's London and 1818, more than 
 Elizabeth's Windsor and 1592. — Ed. 
 
1818.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 207 
 
 trations, but I do not find the letter in the extracts I have from 
 Leslie's correspondence with Irving. 
 
 Irving writes from Birmingham (July 29, 1818) : 
 
 " I wish the plates put in the printer's hands as soon as possi- 
 ble, and to be executed on the best paper. Two thousand of 
 each. I should like to have three hundred proof impressions of 
 each struck off in such manner that they would do to frame, 
 should any person like to have them in that manner ; if not, 
 they can hereafter be cut down to the size of the volume. You 
 and Allston will have as many struck off for yourselves as you 
 please. Let me know the whole expense, and I will send the 
 money immediately. 
 
 " I have had my trunk packed to come to London, and should 
 have attended to all this myself, but one circumstance or other 
 continually occurs to baffle my plans, and I am at this moment in 
 a little uncertainty when I shall get them. 
 
 " I shall try hard to see Allston before he sails. Had he been 
 going to embark at Liverpool the thing would have been certain. 
 I regret excessively that he goes to America, now that his pros- 
 pects are opening so promisingly in this country ; but perhaps it 
 is all for the best. 
 
 " His ' Jacob's Dream ' was a particular favourite of mine. I 
 have gazed on it again and again, and the more I gazed the more 
 I was delighted with it. I believe if I was a painter, I could at 
 this moment take a pencil and delineate the whole with the atti- 
 tude and expression of every figure. 
 
 "Allston gives me a charming account of your picture of 
 ' Anne Page and Master Slender.' I hope you will take fre- 
 quent opportunities to steal away from the painting of portraits, 
 to give full scope to your taste and imagination." 
 
 In this year Leslie made a pleasure-excursion into the West of 
 England, of which the letter to his sister gives some pretty land- 
 scape sketches in pen and ink. 
 
208 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM 
 
 [1818. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, Nov. 21, 1818. 
 
 In my last I informed you that I had just returned from a trip 
 through Devonshire, the particulars of which I had not then time 
 to relate. I will endeavour (now that I have a little more leisure) 
 to give you some account of it. I had received an invitation from 
 Mr. Dunlop, to spend a short time with him at Dawlish, where 
 he had taken lodgings for a fortnight. I arrived at Exeter from 
 London in twenty-four hours, where I hired a gig and a man to 
 drive me to Dawlish, which is at the sea-side, and about twelve 
 miles from Exeter. This part of the country is all hill and valley, 
 very luxuriant and beautifully diversified with gentlemen's seats 
 and villages. The cottages and churches are of the most brilliant 
 white, and a kind of vine which is generally seen spreading over 
 the walls of the former, the leaves of which are at this season of 
 a bright crimson, produces a beautiful effect. I spent a fortnight 
 of uninterrupted enjoyment at Dawlish, bathed in the sea almost 
 every morning, and after breakfast went out to some one of the 
 fine views with which we were surrounded, sometimes alone, and 
 sometimes with Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop. We visited Powderham 
 Castle, and the grounds belonging to it, beautifully situated on the 
 River Exe. The castle is an ancient Gothic one, but as it has 
 been constantly occupied, the interior has been modernised. 
 
 On the opposite side of the river, stands the seat of the late 
 Lord Heathfield. We also visited Mamhead, the highest hill in 
 the neighbourhood. On the summit stands an obelisk surrounded 
 by pines and other forest trees, among which is the evergreen 
 oak, a remarkably elegant tree. This place is more like an 
 American wood than anything I have seen in England. 
 
 At Mamhead there is a pretty little church, in the yard of 
 which stands the largest yew tree I ever saw. The trunk is 
 thirty-six feet in circumference. There were also some of the 
 finest elms I ever saw. Dawlish itself is a small place, with 
 nothing particularly beautiful about it ; but as it is well sheltered 
 and affords conveniences for bathing, it is a good deal resorted to 
 by invalids. The climate is considered the finest of any part of 
 
1818.] 
 
 LESLIE'S COERESPONDENCE. 
 
 209 
 
 England. The shops at these small places are like our American 
 country stores. I bought a pair of gloves at a grocer's who was 
 likewise an undertaker, and I had my hair cut by a barber who 
 kept horses for hire and sold pianos. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop having given up their intention of 
 going to Plymouth, I set out by myself. Mr. Dunlop lent me a 
 horse and accompanied me as far as Newton Bushel, about ten 
 miles from Dawlish, in the course of which ride I saw some 
 of the beautiful scenery on the River Teign. I had sent my 
 trunk back to London, and took with me only a few shirts and 
 cravats tied in a handkerchief, and my sketch book. 
 
 Thus equipped I left Newton on the top of one of the coach- 
 es, and about four o'clock got down within two miles of Totness 
 to visit Berry Pomeroy Castle. After proceeding about half-a- 
 mile on foot, I came within sight of the ruins, which crown the 
 summit of a hill, richly wooded, and over-topped by another 
 equally luxuriant rising behind it, and forming a back-ground to 
 the castle. Fearful that I should not have time before dark to 
 explore the beauties of the place, I endeavoured to procure a 
 lodging at some cottages I saw before me. This I found imprac- 
 ticable, but was directed to the lodge of the castle as the only 
 likely place to obtain a bed, and where the woman lived whose 
 business it is to show the castle to strangers. To the lodge I 
 therefore repaired, through a long avenue of trees, but found I 
 could not procure a bed nearer than at Totness. My guide took 
 me into the castle through a modern wooden gate, which supplies 
 the place of the ancient portcullis. The ruined walls and towers 
 are in most places completely covered with ivy. Not a vestige of 
 the roof remains. Tall trees are growing in the principal apart- 
 ments, and bushes of various kinds on the tops of the walls. We 
 ascended and descended flights of steps, in some places almost 
 impassable, traversed narrow and winding passages, sometimes in 
 perfect darkness. In the guard-room, over the entrance, my 
 guide pointed out the long narrow opening through which the 
 portcullis had formerly descended. Sunset was approaching and 
 the 
 
 Loop-hole tower, the donjon-keep, 
 In yellow lustre shone. 
 14 
 
210 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1S18. 
 
 That part of the castle which we first entered was built in the 
 year 1070. The rest, though of more modern date, was nearly 
 in an equally ruinous state. The view from one of the towers 
 was very fine : the surrounding hills swelling and steep. The 
 day had been a little misty, but the sun was setting beautifully 
 behind the bold outline of a MIL Upon one side of the castle 
 the hill on which it stands is nearly perpendicular, and the ap- 
 pearance of the valley as seen from above is very romantic ; the 
 wildness of the foliage which covers the descent, and some 
 picturesque rocks of limestone opposite, — separated from the 
 hill on which the castle stands by a broad level green, which in 
 days of old had been covered with water forming the moat, — 
 combine to make it so. The lulling sound of the stream to which 
 the moat is now shrunk, .and which winds through the valley en- 
 tirely concealed by foliage, and the distant clink of a mill, were 
 the only sounds, excepting the notes of the castle's feathered in- 
 habitants. 
 
 We now descended to the opposite rocks, from which is the 
 best view of the whole place. The sun had set, but left a mel- 
 low light which streamed along the horizon, behind the dark grey 
 walls and still darker ivy which mantled them, and threw a faint 
 tinge on the tops of some of the tallest trees that rose to the base 
 of the ruins. The feeling I had in beholding a scene so perfect- 
 ly poetical for the first time, and knowing all that to be real 
 which looked so like a vision, was indescribable. We traversed 
 the valley and passed the mill, part of which is coeval with the 
 castle and belonged to it. The wall still remains round a part of 
 the castle ground, and my guide pointed out what had been the 
 garden — now a desolate field. By the time we regained the 
 lodge it was dark, and I proceeded to Totness without delay, 
 passing through the village of Berry, about half a mile from the 
 castle. I met one or two country people on the road, who saluted 
 me with a S good night. ' In the daytime the Devonshire people 
 always bow or courtesy to you, dowm to the youngest children. I 
 had made up my mind to return to Berry Castle the next morn- 
 ing, but when I came, I found Totness such a beautiful place that 
 I gave up my intention. The day was delightfully fine, and I 
 employed myself till near two o'clock in wandering through the 
 
1818.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 211 
 
 charming scenery that surrounds this ancient town, and occasion- 
 ally attempting a sketch. The bridge is very old, with pointed 
 arches, and in some parts ruinous. The church is also very 
 ancient. The custom of tolling the curfew is still kept up in this 
 part of the country, though it is not followed by putting out the 
 lights. The church clock at Totness strikes the day of the month 
 every evening. On the top of a high hill near the church stands 
 the ruined tower of a castle, so entirely covered with ivy, that at 
 a distance it has the appearance of a clump of trees. A grassy 
 walk round the parapet of this tower, commands a very fine view 
 of the surrounding country, through which the river Dart winds 
 very beautifully. 
 
 I left Totness on one of the coaches that passes through, and 
 about half-past three o'clock arrived at Ivy-bridge, a pleasant 
 village situated on a picturesque stream, which dashes over a bed 
 of rocks in a continual series of waterfalls with a constant roar. 
 It is crossed by a high picturesque bridge of one arch, clothed 
 with ivy, from which the village takes its name. I dined at this 
 beautiful place and strolled about till dark. The next coach 
 came past at seven, and on that I proceeded to Plymouth, where 
 I arrived between nine and ten o'clock. The next morning I 
 took a boat and went on board the ' Impregnable,' by merely ask- 
 ing leave of the commanding officer, which was very politely 
 granted. She is a 100 gun ship, and was very much shattered 
 at Algiers in the late bombardment, since when she has been en- 
 tirely repaired. 
 
 I was delighted with the perfect order and cleanliness main- 
 tained in every part of her. The second gun-deck was filled 
 with sailors' wives and children. I afterwards visited the dock- 
 yard, where I obtained admittance without the least difficulty 
 by answering in the affirmative when asked if I was a native of 
 England. I was not aware of what I have since learned, that if I 
 had called myself an American I could not have got in. Among 
 other things, I was shown a frigate on the stocks building upon 
 a large scale, to 'face the Americans,' as my conductor told 
 me.* * 
 
 In tins year, much to Leslie's regret, Allston sailed for Ameri- 
 
212 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1819. 
 
 ca. He was an associate of our Royal Academy, but preferred 
 America, and his prospects there, to the certainty of distinction 
 here. He took up his residence in Boston, where he followed 
 his art and cultivated literature. He lived much respected, and 
 died at Cambridge in Massachusetts in 1843. A folio volume of 
 fac-similes of sketches, found in his studio after his death, was 
 published by Steven and Perkins, of Boston, which abundantly 
 shows his grace and antique elegance as a designer. A ' Dido 
 and ^Eneas,' in particular, might have been traced from a Pom- 
 peian Mosaic. Mr. Allston's masterpiece, ' Jacob's Dream,' is in 
 this country, at Petworth ; but I confess to having been disap- 
 pointed in the qualities of the picture, when I saw it for the first 
 time this year, after reading what Irving and Leslie say of it. 
 
 1819. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Portrait of a Lady ( ?). — Sir Roger de Coverley going to Church, 
 accompanied by the srectator, and surrounded by his tenants.* 
 — See Sjjectator, No. 112. (Exhibited R. A.) 
 
 This year is an epoch in the painter's career, as being that in 
 which Leslie ventured on a class of subjects which none of our 
 painters has treated with so fine a hand as he. We have seen 
 him forsaking the Old Testament and the Pantheon for Shake- 
 speare. But he durst not venture too fast into that region of the 
 familiar, which the pedantic conventionalism of that day almost 
 entirely proscribed. Gainsborough, it is true, had long before 
 this time painted cottage children, and even hazarded ' A Girl 
 and Pigs,' which Sir Joshua had, in the opinion of his contem- 
 poraries, lowered himself by buying for a hundred guineas. 
 Morland was great in pigs, and stables, and sheep-pens. Later 
 still, Wilkie had taken the town by storm by his * Blind Fiddler,' 
 and his other inimitable scenes of Scottish Lowland life. But in 
 spite of these exceptions, it may be said that domestic subjects were 
 
 * This picture was exhibited at Manchester in 1857, by its present possessor, 
 John Naylor, Esq. — Ed. 
 
1819.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 213 
 
 tabooed to the mass of painters. The illustration of books — 
 Shakespeare excepted — was thought matter for the publishers 
 and the reading public, rather than for the painter and his patrons. 
 Stothard and Smirke worked at this work, and were both Acade- 
 micians, but they were ill-paid, and passed over by the scanty 
 picture-buying class of that period. 
 
 At a time when the classical and heroic are, in their turn, pro- 
 scribed, we find it difficult to appreciate the courage of a young 
 painter who dared to deviate from the conventional subjects and 
 style of his times, and to paint what his heart warmed to. 
 
 Leslie's first picture of Sir Roger was painted for his good 
 friend Mr. Dunlop, a wealthy tobacco importer, to whom Leslie's 
 American connections had made him known on his arrival in 
 England. 
 
 Lord Lansdowne, one of the soundest in judgment and most 
 self-reliant among the nobility, who comprised in their ranks 
 almost all the picture-buyers of that day, saw and admired Mr. 
 Dunlop's picture at the Exhibition, and gave the painter a com- 
 mission for a repetition of the subject, which now hangs at 
 Bowood. 
 
 We have probably a right to consider this year as Leslie's 
 starting-point on the road to fame and fortune. But the only 
 letter I find of this date is the following characteristic one from 
 Washington Irving (who had spent the summer in London), 
 written to Leslie while on a visit to his Quaker friends, the 
 Dillwyns, in Wales, at Penllergare near Swansea. The Lyman, 
 Everett, and Charles Williams mentioned in the letter, were 
 American friends of Irving's and Leslie's ; and the Newton re- 
 ferred to, is the painter, one of Leslie's and Irving's most inti- 
 mate associates. 
 
 London, Sept. mil, 1819. 
 
 You Leslie ! — What's the reason you have not let us hear 
 from you since you set out on your travels ? We have been in 
 great anxiety lest you should have started from London on some 
 other route of that six inch square map of the world which you 
 consulted, and through the mistake of a hair's breadth may have 
 wandered the Lord knows where. 
 
214 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1819. 
 
 Here have been sad evolutions and revolutions since you left 
 us. Newton had his three shirts and six collars packed up in a 
 half of a saddle bag for several days, with the intention of accom- 
 panying Lyman, Everett, and Charles Williams to Liverpool, 
 and returning with the latter through Wales, in which case they 
 intended beating up your quarters, and endeavouring to surprise 
 you with your mahl-stick turned into a shepherd's crook, sighing 
 at the feet of Miss Maine. Newton did nothing for two or three 
 days but scamper up and down between Finsbury Square and 
 Sloane Street like a cat in a panic, taking leave of everj^body in 
 the morning and calling upon them again in the evening, when to 
 his astonishment he found Charles Williams had the private in- 
 tention of embarking for America. Charles has actually sailed, 
 and Newton, instead of his Welsh tour, accompanied me on a 
 tour to Deptford and Eltham. He has now resumed his station at 
 the head of Sloane Street. Jones has taken possession of the bot- 
 tom, and between them both I expect they will tie the two ends of 
 the street into a true lover's knot. For my part I have been 
 almost good for nothing since your departure, and would not pass 
 another summer in London if they would make me Lord Mayor. 
 
 I have received the second number of the ' Sketch Book,' 
 and shall be quite satisfied if I deserve half the praise they give 
 me in the American journals ; but they always overdo these mat- 
 ters in America. I am glad to find the second number pleases 
 more than the first. The sale is very rapid, and altogether the 
 success exceeds my most sanguine expectation. Now you sup- 
 pose I am all on the alert, and full of spirit and excitement. No 
 such thing. I am just as good for nothing as ever I was, and in- 
 deed have been flurried and put out of my way by these puffings. 
 I feel something as I suppose you did when your picture met with 
 success — anxious to do something better, and at a loss what to do. 
 
 But enough of egotism. Let me know how you find yourself ; 
 how you like Wales ; what you are doing, and especially when 
 you intend to return. I hope you will not remain away much 
 longer. Newton's manikin has at length arrived, and he is to 
 have it home in a few days, when it is to be hoped he will give 
 up rambling abroad, and stay at home, drink tea, and play the 
 flute to the lady. William Macdougall means to give her a tea- 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 215 
 
 party, and it is expected she will be introduced into company 
 with as much eclat as Peregrine Pickle's protegee. I have now 
 fairly filled my sheet with nonsense, and craving a speedy reply, 
 
 I am, yours, W. I. 
 
 1820. 
 
 Pictures of this Year. 
 Londoners Gipsying. (Exhibited). — Portrait of Washington Irving. 
 
 During this year Leslie was much employed with his illustra- 
 tions for Irving's w r orks — ' Knickerbocker ' and the 4 Sketch 
 Book ' — which had attained a success in London peculiarly grat- 
 ifying to Leslie's affectionate and admiring friendship for their 
 author. The letters I have of this date run much on this theme. 
 Scott's visit to London this year brought him and Leslie together, 
 and the painter was delighted by Scott's approval of his picture 
 of ' May-day in the time of Queen Elizabeth,' on which he was 
 now engaged. I have inserted the account of Scott's visit to 
 Leslie in extenso, as it contains a pen-and-ink portrait of Scott, 
 given with all the sharpness of a first impression. This year, too, 
 died the venerable President of the Academy. I have not been 
 able to ascertain where the ' Gipsying Party ' now is, or anything 
 of the way in which the subject is treated. 
 
 The edition of Irving's wdrks, with the illustrations by Leslie 
 and Allston, was published by Murray in 1823. Newton con- 
 tributed the author's portrait ; Leslie nine illustrations — the 
 Royal Poet, James the First of Scotland, with the dove flying in 
 at the window ; Rip Van Winkle toiling up the hill by the side 
 of the spectral Dutch sailor, keg on shoulder ; the Indian chief, 
 Philip of Pokanoket, on his night-watch in the forest ; Ichabod 
 Crane giving his singing lesson to Katrine, from ' The Legend of 
 Sleepy Hollow ; ' a Dutch Fire-side ; Dutch Courtship ; Antony 
 Van Corlear, trumpet in hand, setting off for the Wars, sur- 
 rounded by weeping vrows ; William Kieft introducing his new 
 mode of punishment for beggars ; and Peter Stuyvesant rebuking 
 the Cobbler : all from ' Knickerbocker.' Allston furnished a sin- 
 
216 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 gle illustration from the same book — Wouter Van Twiller decid- 
 ing a law-suit. Leslie's designs are full of his own quiet and 
 well-directed humour, with just enough of caricature, here and 
 there, to suit the subject. But in the Dutch Fire-side and Philip 
 of Pokanoket this element disappears, to give place to good draw- 
 ing, excellent composition, and, in the former, to a very fine and 
 subtle effect of chiaroscuro. He afterwards painted this subject. 
 A comparison of Allston's design from ' Knickerbocker,' with 
 Leslie's, illustrates the difference between the men. Allston has 
 not the least humour, and tries to make up for it by breadth of 
 caricature in faces and proportions. Leslie, on the other hand, 
 keeps his caricature close on the limit which separates that style 
 from broadly humorous design, and never departs from genuine 
 and human expression, nor fails to introduce beauty, whenever he 
 has an opening for it. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, April 9, 1820. 
 The last letter I have received from you was that of Feb- 
 ruary 7 th. 
 
 Since I last wrote I have completed my picture of the ' Gipsy- 
 ing Party,' and sent it to Somerset House. In a few days I hope 
 to hear where it is placed, and how it is liked by the Academi- 
 cians. I suppose you will have received the account that was 
 published in the papers of the funeral of Mr. West. It was 
 arranged, I believe, exactly on the plan of that of Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. An apartment on the ground-floor of the Academy 
 was hung and carpeted with black, the daylight entirely excluded, 
 and the room lighted by a number of tall wax candles, placed 
 at regular distances on the floor, around the coffin, which was 
 covered by a pall and lid of black feathers. Against the wall, at 
 the head of the corpse, hung the hatchment bearing the family 
 arms. No one remained in the room excepting Robert, Mr. 
 West's old servant, who had sat up there all the preceding night. 
 My feelings were greatly affected by this scene. The company 
 who were tb attend the funeral assembled in a large upper room, 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 217 
 
 where they were provided with black silk scarves and hatbands, 
 the Academicians wearing long black cloaks. It was interesting 
 to see persons of different ranks, and of different nations, and of 
 well-known different political sentiments, meeting on this occa- 
 sion, and uniting in the last tribute of respect to a man of genius. 
 The service was performed by Dr. Wellesley, brother to the 
 Duke of Wellington. In one part of it a very beautiful anthem 
 was sung by the boys of the choir, the effect of which, with the 
 fine organ of St. Paul's (said to be the finest in England), was 
 such as Milton has described in the Penseroso. Nothing cer- 
 tainly raises the imagination so far above this " dim earth " as 
 fine cathedral music heard in a cathedral, and never have I felt 
 its power more than on this occasion. When the service was 
 finished I went down into the crypt, beneath the church, and saw 
 the coffin lowered into the grave. I was not aware at the time 
 that the tombs of Sir Joshua, Opie, and Barry, and Sir Christo- 
 pher Wren, were all near the same place. The crowd of per- 
 sons assembled covered them. Sir Thomas Lawrence has been 
 elected President, and has just returned from Italy, where he has 
 been painting whole lengths of the Pope, and I know not how 
 many other high personages. 
 
 Walter Scott (now Sir Walter) is in London, and I am to 
 have the honour, and I am sure it will be the very great pleasure, 
 of breakfasting with him at his lodgings on Friday next. Irving, 
 who I suspect of being a very great favourite of Scott's, is to 
 introduce me. It is what I did not venture to ask of him, but 
 Irving, knowing how much such an introduction would gratify 
 me, proposed it himself. I believe we are to meet Crabbe, the 
 poet, there. Scott is one of those men of genius who delights in 
 the genius of others, and is not for having it all to himself. He 
 has expressed the highest opinion of Irving's productions, and 
 perhaps there is not another man in this country whose good 
 opinion is so valuable. You will be glad to hear that there is 
 every prospect of Irving's writings speedily becoming as popular 
 here as they are in America. An edition of the first volume of the 
 4 Sketch Book ' is very nearly sold off here already. One of the 
 stories, * The Wife,' has been translated into French, and many 
 of the articles have been extracted for the magazines and news- 
 
218 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 papers. Scott was very much delighted with the sixth number, 
 particularly with the story of ' Brom Bones.' I have just finished 
 reading ' The Monastery.' I do not much like the supernatural 
 agency introduced, but I think there are some scenes very admira- 
 bly described, particularly the escape of Mysie with Sir Piercie 
 Shafton. The character of Sir Piercie appears to me to be ex- 
 tremely well drawn, and has a good deal of novelty. The Sub- 
 Prior is very finely sustained. From what I have heard, it seems 
 to be less liked than any of the novels, and perhaps with justice, 
 though, for my own part, I read a great deal of it with as much 
 pleasure as any of the others. 
 
 I went to see the chairing of Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. 
 Hobhouse, and, as I generally find on these occasions, I was more 
 amused with the crowd than the procession. The show of beau- 
 tiful women at the windows, their countenances animated by the 
 occasion, waving scarves and handkerchiefs, amply repaid me for 
 a good deal of tramping through the mire, and a ducking from 
 the rain into the bargain. I sent my copy of ' Sir Roger ' home 
 to the Marquis, and a day or two afterwards received a note con- 
 taining the amount, and his expressions of perfect satisfaction 
 with the picture. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 London, June 28, 1820. 
 When I last wrote I was about to be introduced to Sir Walter 
 Scott. He quite answered all my expectations of him, and you 
 may suppose they were very high. His manners are those of an 
 amiable and unaffected man, and a polished gentleman, and his 
 conversation is something higher, for it is often quite as amusing 
 and interesting as his novels, and without any apparent attempt 
 at display. It flows from him in the most easy and natural 
 manner. As I take it for granted that the most insignificant par- 
 ticulars relating to such a man will be interesting to you, I will 
 give you a description of his personal appearance, and even his 
 dress. He is tall and well formed, excepting one of his ankles 
 and foot (I think the right) which is crippled, and makes him 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 219 
 
 walk very lamely. He is neither fat nor thin. His face is per- 
 fectly Scotch, and though some people think it heavy, it struck 
 me as a very agreeable one. He never could have been hand- 
 some. His forehead is very high, his nose short, his upper lip 
 long, and the lower part of his face rather fleshy. His com- 
 plexion is fresh and clear, his eyes very blue, shrewd, and pene- 
 trating. I should say the predominant expression of his face is 
 that of strong sense. His hair, which has always been very light 
 (as well as his eyebrows and eyelashes) is now of a silvery white- 
 ness, which makes him look somewhat older than he really is (I 
 believe forty-six is his age). He was dressed in a brown frock 
 coat, blue trowsers, and had on a black cravat. His son was with 
 him ; he is a young man of eighteen or nineteen, and in the army 
 — he does not at all resemble his father. Among the company 
 who breakfasted with him the morning we did, was a Mr. Bos- 
 well, the son of Dr. Johnson's Bozzy. He is a lawyer, and is 
 said to be cleverer than his father. The breakfast was a very 
 profuse one, and, as I am told, quite in the Scotch style. I would 
 have sent you a sketch of Scott, but, after several attempts, I find 
 I cannot catch his face from recollection. All the portraits I 
 have seen are somewhat like him, but none of them very 
 strongly so. 
 
 I have not yet sold my picture of the 1 Gipsying Party,' and 
 scarcely expect it now. I am just commencing a picture of the 
 May -day revels in the time of Queen Elizabeth, which will con- 
 tain a great many figures, and will be an attempt to give the 
 costume and something of the manners of all classes in that age, 
 from the nobility down to the peasantry. I have been studying 
 the subject for several months, and am reading all the old authors 
 I can get hold of who describe manners in that time. I am in 
 hopes it will be popular, as it is a period that Englishmen are 
 fond of recurring to, as one of the most brilliant in the history of 
 their country. They are also more generally acquainted with the 
 manners of that time than any other, on account of the greater 
 popularity of Shakespeare than any other English writer what- 
 ever. The picture I am to paint for Mr. Scriven, an engraver, 
 whose object is to make a print of it. 
 
 I agree with you in thinking the ' Monastery ' inferior to all 
 
220 
 
 EXTEACTS FEOM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 the other novels, but still there is a great deal in it that nobody 
 else could write. Were you not much amused with Sir Piercie 
 Shafton ? I think the description of his flight with Mysie Hap- 
 per is very good. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 Irving was now in Paris, and the following correspondence 
 between him and Leslie is creditable on both sides. It gives 
 glimpses besides of the pleasant social life of Leslie and his circle 
 
 — " the lads " as Irving calls them — the affectionate nick-names 
 
 — the blind-man's buff under the trees at Dr. Bollman's at Wink- 
 field — and the scrambling bachelor menage of Leslie and his 
 quaint little chum, Peter Powell, — which seem to me too char- 
 acteristic to be omitted. 
 
 London, Sept. 15th, 1820. 
 
 Dear Irving, — " What are you at " that you do not write 
 to some of us ? " There never were such times " as we have had 
 lately. In the first place, the " Childe " (Newton) was turned 
 out of house and home by a host of painters and glaziers old 
 Perkins * let in upon him one day. He agreed to make the tour 
 of Wales with Charles Williams and the Lymans, but the matter 
 got perplexed somehow or other between Charles and him, and 
 Newton, who was to join them on the road, not knowing exactly 
 where it was to be, determined to go somewhere else. He there- 
 fore spent a day in taking the opinions of all his acquaintances as 
 to whether he should that night set off for Cumberland, Margate, 
 Paris, the Davidson's, or go to the English Opera. " The 
 Dusty " (?) being the last man he called on, advised the latter, 
 which he accomplished, and next morning set off for Hastings, 
 and from thence to Brighton, where he met all the world, and 
 returned to London with old Gray in a great panic lest Luke and 
 myself should have gone to Winkfield (where we were engaged 
 to pass a few days) without him. We have all three spent a most 
 delightful week there with the Bollmans, Miss Maine (who is to 
 be married the 4th of Oct.), and Miss Foote. All that we had 
 
 * Haydon's most long-suffering of landlords. Newton succeeded him in the 
 rooms. — Ed. 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 221 
 
 to regret was the absence of yourself and your brother, of which 
 we were most forcibly reminded by scenes we were sure you 
 would have enjoyed. Do you recollect an old fragment of an oak 
 which I believe you christened " Achilles " ? On three several 
 days did that oak hear your name sighed forth as mournfully as 
 ever poor Yorick's Avas. You must remember a noble grove of 
 beech, covering a hill which commands a fine view of the castle, 
 and separated by the road from a very beautiful group of ash 
 trees. I am sure you would willingly have exchanged all the 
 pleasures of Parjs to have been one in a game of " puss in the 
 corner," which succeeded to a considerable destruction of bread 
 and jam under those beeches. Newton and myself returned to 
 town yesterday, and he, finding that Perkins had just succeeded 
 in rendering his rooms completely uninhabitable, was obliged to 
 sleep with me, and set off again this morning for Winkfield. 
 Finding that I am not wanted in town, I expect to follow him 
 to-morrow, and remain there the few days longer that the rest of 
 the party stay. 
 
 London, Oct. 18, 1820. 
 
 Dear Irving, — * * * *** ***** I have little to say 
 about myself since I last wrote. I am going on with my pic- 
 ture,* and now show it to whoever wishes to see it. I find the 
 subject pleases generally very much, and I am getting still more 
 interested in it myself. Newton tells me he has written to you. 
 I suppose he has told you to come back. If I were in your 
 place (as I am not aware of any important object you have in 
 staying abroad), I would consult only my inclinations, and not 
 endeavour to reconcile myself to an absence from England as a 
 matter of duty if I felt strongly the wish to return. With regard 
 to writing, I think you will always please yourself best where 
 you feel most at home. However, all advice of this kind 
 is most probably useless if not annoying, for we have always 
 motives for our plans, which cannot be fully understood by others. 
 I wish, however, you would let me know what is the probable 
 period of your absence. I feel lopsided without you. 
 
 The Americans are all highly pleased by the Edinburgh Review 
 * The May-day. — Ed. 
 
222 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1S20. 
 
 of the ' Sketch Book ' ; and no one that I have seen appears 
 more gratified by it than the immortal Brockedon, who sends his 
 very best regards to you. 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 A Monsieur W. Irving, 
 
 Aux soins de Messrs. Welles et Williams, 
 26, Rue Faubourg Poissoniere, 
 a Paris. 
 
 Paris, Oct. 31, 1820. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have received two letters from you, 
 and ought to have replied long before this, but I have been out 
 of the mood for letter-writing, and so have deferred it from clay 
 to day, and so time has run on. I now write in great haste, to 
 avail myself of an opportunity free of expense. I have just 
 received a very long and friendly letter from Mr. Murray, who in 
 fact has overwhelmed me with eulogiums. It appears that my 
 writings are selling well, and he is multiplying editions. I am 
 very glad to find that he has made your acquaintance, and still 
 more, that he has taken a great liking to you. He speaks of 
 you in the most gratifying terms. He has it in his power to be 
 of service to you, and I trust he will be. He tells me he has re- 
 quested you to look over Knickerbocker for subjects for eight or 
 ten sketches, and the Sketch Book for a couple, and he wishes 
 me to assist you with my opinion on the subject. I will look 
 over the books, and write to you in a day or two. Murray is 
 going to make me so fine in print that I shall hardly know myself. 
 Could not Allston's design be reduced without losing the charac- 
 teristic humour of it ? I am delighted to find that your labours 
 are to be thus interwoven with mine, so that Ave shall have a kind 
 of joint interest and pride in every volume. 
 
 My dear boy, it is a grievous thing to be separated from you, 
 and I feel it more and more. I wish to heaven this world were 
 not so wide, and that w r e could manage to keep more together in 
 it — this continual separating from those we like is one of the 
 curses of an unsettled life : and with all my vagrant habits I can- 
 not get accustomed to it. 
 
 I am glad to hear that you are getting on with your picture, 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 2^3 
 
 and that you are more and more pleased with it. Depend upon 
 it, it is one of those pictures that will do you very essential ser- 
 vice. It will give you a standing with men whose opinions have 
 great weight in society — men curious in literature and in an- 
 tiquities. The picture will please them, as showing not merely 
 technical skill, and the ordinary eye for the picturesque ; but as 
 displaying research, mind, and strong literary feeling. It is a 
 highly classical English subject. I hope you will follow it up by 
 something in the same line ; the researches you have made for 
 the picture will make you feel more at home in another. I feel 
 a continual want to be with you and Newton, to see how you 
 both get on. 
 
 I had a very acceptable letter from Willis a few days since. 
 Tell him I will write to him soon, but I must first write to Peter 
 Powell, to whom I am in debt. I have so many persons to write 
 to in England and America, that being a very lazy letter-writer, 
 it is but now and then I can bring a letter to bear upon each. 
 Mr. Tappan who bears this letter, told me, that it was the wish 
 of Fairman and yourself, that an engraving should be made from 
 the likeness you have of me. It is a matter I do not feel so 
 much objection to, as I did formerly, having been so much upon 
 the town lately as to have lost much of my modesty. And as I 
 understand, that there has been some spurious print of my phiz 
 in America, I do not care if another is made to push it out of 
 sight. You will only be careful to finish the picture so as not to 
 give it too fixed and precise a fashion of dress. I preferred the 
 costume of Newton's likeness of me, which was trimmed with 
 fur. These modern dresses are apt to give a paltry common- 
 place air. 
 
 Give my love to all the lads, and believe me most affectionate- 
 ly yours, W. I. 
 
 P. S. I can give you no idea when I shall return to England. 
 I have no plan on the subject. 
 
 Parts, Nov. 30th, 1820. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I cannot let Mr. Marx depart without 
 scrawling you a line. I hear that you are getting on with the 
 sketches for Knickerbocker, and that you have executed one on 
 
224 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 the same subject Alls ton once chose, viz : ' Peter Stuyvesant re- 
 buking the Cobbler. ' I wish you could drop me a line and let 
 me know what subjects you execute, and how you and Murray 
 make out together. I hear that you have taken the " Childe " to 
 Murray's ; you have only to make him acquainted with Willis 
 and Peter Powell, and he will then be able to make one at your 
 tea-kettle debauches. I have just made a brief but very pleasant 
 excursion into Lower Normandy in company with Mr. Ritchie. 
 I must refer you to a letter scribbled to Peter Powell for a full 
 and faithful narrative of this tour. I have never been more 
 pleased with any tour that I have made. The little towns of 
 Lower Normandy seem to have been built and peopled with an 
 eye to the picturesque. The fine gothic churches, the old quaint 
 architecture of the private houses, the beauty of the common 
 people, particularly the peasantry, their peculiar costumes, all 
 form continual pictures. But I believe you will get a better 
 idea of them from the sketches of Lewis than from any descrip- 
 tion that I can furnish. By-the-bye, I saw the card of one of 
 the Lewises in the hands of a young man of the college at 
 Falaise, who accompanied me about the beautiful ruins of the 
 castle where William the Conqueror was born. He told me that 
 Lewis had taken several sketches of the castle ; it certainly is a 
 most picturesque morsel of antiquity. I anticipate great pleasure 
 some future day in looking over Lewis's sketches again, and re- 
 calling some of the curious old buildings and streets of the Nor- 
 man towns. 
 
 I received a letter a few days since from Newton by Miss 
 Peat. She had been some time on the way to Paris, and the 
 letter was of an old date. I shall write to Newton the next op- 
 portunity, and likewise to Willis, to whom I am indebted for a 
 most agreeable letter. I find by the Lymans that the Sloane 
 Street romance * is still unfinished, and that materials are daily 
 springing up for another volume ; that Jones has retired to either 
 a convent or a nailery in the neighborhood of Birmingham ; and 
 that Newton is busy with a brush in each hand and his hair 
 
 * Apropos of Newton's escapades. The Ann referred to was a beautiful girl 
 with whom he was in love about this time. Poor Newton's normal state was 
 one of passionate furore for some beauty or other. 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 225 
 
 standing on end turning Ann's portraits into likenesses of Mary- 
 Queen of Scots, General Washington, and the Lord knows who ; 
 " there never was such times ! " 
 
 Let me hear from you often, and don't wait for my replies, as I 
 am if possible more averse to letter-writing even than Allston. 
 This is written in bed, which must account for its defects. 
 
 Paris, 1820. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have been intending this long time 
 past to write to you, and a good intention of long standing is a 
 matter to boast of in this naughty world. How comes on your 
 picture ? I presume it is nearly finished. Did you call on Sir 
 Walter Scott while he was in town, and ask him to look at it ? 
 If not, you have behaved shabbily. I presume before this you 
 have seen Miss Foote ; I intended to have written by her, but 
 was occupied at the time, and let the opportunity slip unimproved. 
 I have heard that you are to pass some months at Windsor, to 
 copy several of Sir Peter Lely's pictures, for some lord or other. 
 Is this the case ? and if so when do you go there ? It will be a 
 charming situation for you during the summer months. Let me 
 know who this lord is who has taken you into favour. I find by 
 Newton's letter, that he and the old Euphuist, the cidevant jeune 
 homme that haunts exhibitions, have become sworn friends. I 
 presume the " Childe's " new fledged reputation will introduce 
 him into a great deal of dilettante society, and that good company 
 will come nigh to be the ruin of him. I have been sadly bothered 
 with the same evil of late, and have had to fight shy of invita- 
 tions that would exhaust time and spirits. The most interesting 
 acquaintance I have made in Paris, is Moore the poet, who is 
 very much to my taste. I see him almost every day, and feel as 
 if I had known him for a lifetime. He is a noble-hearted, manly, 
 spirited, little fellow, with a mind as generous as his fancy is 
 brilliant. I hope you have better weather in London than we 
 have in Paris. Such a spring ! Nothing but rain in torrents ; 
 and cold boisterous winds. They may say what they please of 
 London weather ; I never passed a more dirty, rainy season in 
 London than this last winter has been in Paris; and then the 
 streets are so detestable in dirty weather, that there is no walking 
 15 
 
226 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 in them. My only consolation at such times is the vicinity of 
 the Garden of the Tuileries, which is but a short distance from 
 my lodgings; and which I consider as a park attached to my 
 mansion — though I must own, I prefer my park of St. James' 
 and Kensington Gardens — the latter particularly, as it has glori- 
 ous lawns of green grass that I can roll on ; whereas in the 
 Tuileries, there is no place to rest, except one sit on a cursed cold 
 stone bench ; or pays two sous for a vile straw-bottomed chair. 
 I am scrawling as fast as my pen can go, for I find it is near the 
 time of closing the post-office, and I am determined this letter 
 shall go by mail, though it cost me fifteen sous. I wish you would 
 take pen in hand at once, and let me know how you are getting 
 on with your picture, — what else you are about — when you go 
 to Windsor — how long you stay there — who you are to paint 
 the pictures for — what subject you have in view for your next 
 painting — what Newton is doing — what Luke is doing, and 
 what Peter Powell is doing ? Answer these questions, and then 
 you may add what you please. I have given you a scheme for a 
 letter ; when it is done do not wait for private hand, but send it 
 per post : never mind the postage for once. I want exceedingly 
 to hear from you — the sooner the better. 
 
 London, Dec. 3, 1820. 
 
 Dear Irving, — I should have answered your letter sooner, 
 but I hoped to have heard from you again on the subject of the 
 designs for Mr. Murray. The subjects I have chosen are, a 
 Dutch fire-side, with an old negro telling stories to the children ; 
 William the Testy, suspending a vagrant by the breeches on his 
 patent gallows ; Peter Stuyvesant confuting the Cobbler ; and 
 Anthony Van Corlear taking leave of the young vrows. All of 
 these I have finished except the last, and Mr. Murray appears to 
 be highly pleased with them. 
 
 He is delighted with Allston's picture of ' Wouter Van Twil- 
 ler,' which will be engraved with the rest. He talks a great deal 
 about you whenever I see him in terms of the highest praise and 
 friendship. The ' Sketch Book ' is entirely out of print. I do 
 not know whether you will be angry with me or approve what I 
 am going to tell you. Collins, to whom I had lent the ' Sketch 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 227 
 
 Book/ observed that in the article of the ' Widow's Son ' a pas- 
 sage runs thus, " The service being ended, they proceeded to 
 lower the coffin into the grave." Now he remarked that the 
 coffin is always lowered into the grave during the service or 
 previous to it, for at the words "ashes to ashes, and dust to 
 dust" some earth is thrown in upon it. When he came to this pas- 
 sage he said it destroyed the illusion, for the story had taken the 
 strongest hold of his feelings, and he had been convinced that he 
 was reading an account of a real scene. I took the liberty there- 
 fore of suggesting to Mr. Murray to leave out these few words 
 "the service being ended," which without any other alteration 
 does away with the objection to the passage. I am afraid you 
 will be displeased with my meddling, which I should on no ac- 
 count have dared to do had not the alteration been so very small. 
 There was not time to write and hear from you, as the volume is 
 in press, and it is probable after all that the suggestion was too 
 late for the forthcoming edition. 
 
 I enjoyed very much the renewal of my acquaintance with my 
 old friend ' Diedrich.' I have the highest respect and admiration 
 for the old gentleman, which is certainly increased by my late in- 
 tercourse with him, but I must say that in some of his jokes he 
 goes near to be thought a little indelicate. Now these jokes of 
 the old gentleman being very few and not among his best, I 
 really think he would not suffer by dispensing with them in future. 
 Forgive this remark if you do not agree with it. * * * 
 
 Peter Powell has composed an answer to the letter he expects 
 from you, and is afraid it won't keep much longer. Whenever 
 your plans are fixed let us know ; that is, if they tend towards 
 your return to London. We shall not be so anxious to hear of 
 any others. For my part I feel the loss of your society as much 
 as I did at^ first. You came to London just when I was losing 
 Allston, and I stood in need of an intimate friend of similar 
 tastes with my own. I not only owe to you some of the hap- 
 piest social hours of my life, but you opened to me a new range 
 of observation in my own art, and a perception of qualities and 
 characters of things which painters do not always imbibe from 
 each other. 
 
228 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 P. S. Newton, Willis, and Powell send their love. The 
 " Childe " has finished his picture from Moliere,* and has been 
 drawing for some time at the Academy. 
 
 Remember me affectionately to your brother. 
 
 Paris, Dec. 19th, 1820. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have just received yours of the 3rd. 
 I like all the subjects that you have chosen for the designs, ex- 
 cept that of William the Testy suspending the vagabond by the 
 breeches. The circumstance is not of sufficient point or char- 
 acter in the history to be illustrated. Still it may have struck 
 you in a different manner, and have afforded scope for humorous 
 sketching. I had hoped to hear from Mr. Murray before this, 
 and to have received a copy of 1 Knickerbocker ' and of the 
 ' Sketch Book ' you mention. I pointed him out a mode of 
 forwarding books to me, but I presume he has been too much 
 hurried to attend to it. When you hear of a private opportunity, 
 I wish you would ask Mr. Murray for copies of the works, and 
 send them to me. I received a letter from Peter Powell, in 
 which he speaks of my portrait being in the engraver's hands, 
 and that it is painted in the old Venetian costume. I hope you 
 have not misunderstood my meaning, when I spoke about the 
 costume in which I should like it to be painted. I believe I 
 spoke something about the costume of Newton's portrait. I 
 meant Newton's portrait of me, not of himself. If you recollect 
 he painted me as if in some kind of overcoat, with a fur cape — a 
 dress that had nothing in it remarkable, but which merely avoided 
 any present fashion that might in a few years appear stupid. The 
 Venetian dress which Newton painted himself in would have a 
 fantastic appearance, and savour of affectation. If it is not too 
 late, I should like to have the thing altered. Let the costume be 
 simple and picturesque, but such a one as a gentleman might be 
 supposed to wear occasionally at the present day. I only wanted 
 you to avoid the edges and corners and angles with which a 
 modern coat is so oddly and formally clipped out at the present 
 day. 
 
 I have not the ' Sketch Book ' at hand to refer to, so as to see 
 * The Lovers' Quarrel, from Le D^pit Amoureux. (Engraved.) 
 
1820.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 229 
 
 that the measure and melody of the sentence is not injured by 
 the omission you mention in the story of the 'Widow and her 
 Son.' I am very much obliged to you for the correction. When 
 I look over ' Knickerbocker/ to prepare the new edition, I will 
 attend to your hint about pruning any indelicate parts. As I 
 have no plan fixed that points immediately to England, it is 
 needless to say anything on the subject. Indeed, my chief care 
 as yet must be to keep quiet, and endeavour to write something 
 more for publication ; if I move about and shift my situation, I 
 disturb my thoughts, unsettle my habits, and lose a great deal of 
 time ; and if I lose much more time, I shall have the spectre of 
 an empty purse haunting me. I am obliged, therefore, to pitch 
 my tent for a time until I can make money enough to secure me 
 from want for two or three years. The change from London to 
 Paris deranged me completely. I am now getting into train 
 again ; but a return to England would unsettle me again for a 
 long time. I received not long since a most flattering invitation 
 from Earl Spencer and his lady to pass the Christmas Holidays 
 at their seat at Althorp. The invitation was forwarded by Mr. 
 Rush, and was given in a manner peculiarly gratifying. If I 
 were in England now, an invitation or two of this kind would 
 make me a good-for-nothing gentlemanly fellow for a month. I 
 understand you have introduced Newton to Mr. Mackay.* He 
 and the " Childe " will like each other. Tell Peter Powell I 
 cannot answer his letter until I have answered one which I re- 
 ceived from Willis an age ago. I hope Newton will commence 
 another picture soon, otherwise he will stand a chance of falling 
 
 into the hands of the , or some other pretty girls, and paint 
 
 himself into a scrape again. Powell speaks of some fine portrait 
 which he has painted of a gentleman, and which is considered 
 his chef d'ceuvre, but does not say whose portrait it is. I hope 
 it is some one of consequence that may get him into notice. 
 
 Give my hearty regards to Newton, Willis, Powell, the Boll- 
 mans, the Hoffmans, and all our little circle of intimates. My 
 brother desires likewise to be particularly remembered. 
 
 Yours ever, W. I. 
 
 * Author of a very learned book on the ' Progress of the Intellect in relation 
 to Religious Belief — a great friend of Leslie's. — Ed. 
 
230 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1820. 
 
 London, Dec. 24, 1820. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — I received yesterday yours of the 19th, 
 and hasten to relieve your mmd from any apprehension you may 
 entertain with regard to the costume of your portrait, which is 
 still in my room, exactly in the state in which you last saw it. I 
 shall finish it in a day or two, strictly according to your wishes. 
 The Venetian dress was only a phantom of Peter Powell's imag- 
 ination, conjured up to disturb your evening dreams. 
 
 I called on Mr. Murray yesterday, (who seems to be up to the 
 ears in business), and told him of the opportunities of sending 
 anything to you. My officiously suggested alteration in ' The 
 Widow's Son,' was too late to be introduced into the new edition, 
 which is of a small octavo size and very handsome. Perhaps, as 
 you say, it might have injured the melody of the sentence, and I 
 now see that I was wrong in taking such a liberty. 
 
 The reason I chose the subject of ' William Kieft's Gallows,' 
 was that Mr. Murray wished one design at least from the reign 
 of each governor, and I was a little puzzled in finding one that 
 could be brought within a small compass, from that part of the 
 book. I was somewhat fearful of it myself, but Newton thinks 
 you would like it. Mr. Murray appeared pleased with it ; I will 
 however mention your objection to it, and if he agrees with you I 
 will take something else from the same reign. 
 
 It was at Mr. Murray's own request that I introduced Newton 
 to him. The portrait by Newton, that Powell eulogised so highly, 
 is Peter himself ; it is less than life, and perhaps the best, as to 
 likeness, the " Childe " has painted. We had heard a rumour of 
 Earl Spencer's invitation to you, and were very glad to find it 
 confirmed by your letter. Miller says Geoffrey Crayon is the 
 most fashionable fellow of the day. I am very much inclined to 
 think if you were here just now, " company would be the spoil 
 of you." I am very glad to hear you talk of writing. You can 
 be at no loss for subjects where you are ; indeed, I should think 
 your principal difficulty will be to determine what you shall not 
 write about. Miller told me of your brother's concern in the 
 steam-boat establishment, which I should think likely to answer 
 his best expectations. Remember me most cordially to him. 
 
1821 ] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 231 
 
 All the lads join in wishing you both a merry Christmas and 
 happy new year. I intended appropriating a part of to-mor- 
 row to reading your Christmas article. I shall stick up your por- 
 trait before my face, and bury myself in an enormous elbow chair 
 I have got, over which " Murphy often sheds his puppies," rely- 
 ing on the book I shall hold in my hand to act as a charm against 
 the seductions of the seat. These associations are the best means 
 by which I can console myself for your absence. I received the 
 drawings safe by Mr. Marx. 
 
 1821. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 May Day Revels in the Time of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 " The characters in the May Games consisted of Robin Hood, Maid 
 Marian, Friar Tuck, &c. with a hobbyhorse, fool, and dragon. Among 
 the figures in the foreground of the picture, the antiquated beau in the 
 centre, and the old lady on the right hand, are intended as illustrations 
 of some of the fopperies of that age. The latter is followed by two 
 blue-coated serving-men, and a domestic fool. 
 ' At Paske began our Morrice, and ere Penticost our May, 
 Then Robin Hood, liell John, Friar Tuck and Marian deftly play, 
 And Lord and Ladie gang till Kiike with lads and lasses gay.' " 
 — Warner's Albion's England, Chap. xxiv. (From R. A. Catalogue, 1821.) 
 
 (Exhibited and Engraved, and now in the possession of John Naylor, 
 Esq., Leighton Hall.) 
 
 A finished study of 1 The May-day ' was painted for Alaric A. Watts, 
 and sold this year at Christie and Manson's. 
 
 Rebecca, from Ivanhoe. (Painted for the Marquis of Lansdowne.) — Por- 
 traits of Mrs. Fry and Samuel Gurney. — A Child in a Car- 
 dinal's Dress. 
 
 This year Washington Irving returned from Paris, to Edgbas- 
 ton Castle, the seat of his brother-in-law, Mr. Van Wart, where 
 Leslie paid him a visit. Irving was now in bad health, and Les- 
 lie, full of solicitude for his friend, was anxious he should come up 
 to London for the best medical advice. Irving's letters show the 
 playfulness of the writer, even under severe suffering ; and the 
 correspondence on both sides illustrates the strong attachment of 
 Leslie, Irving, and their " set." The " Childe " is G. S. Newton, 
 
232 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 now in the rapid development of his great but short-lived power, 
 and materially influencing the colour of Leslie, as is apparent from a 
 comparison of his earlier with his later pictures, when Constable's 
 white chalk had got the better of him. " Father Luke " is Willis, 
 an Irishman, and a landscape painter ; so christened after the jo- 
 vial Friar in O'Keefe's 'Poor Soldier.' In the course of this year, 
 Leslie was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy. His 
 ' May Day ' * won him great honour at the year's Exhibition, and 
 with good reason, for it is one of the most inventive, brilliant, and 
 pleasant of his pictures. This picture procured him the pleasure 
 of Scott's acquaintance. The fine engraving from it by Watt, is, 
 no doubt, familiar to most of my readers. It would appear from 
 passages in some of Leslie's letters, that Leslie had it in contem- 
 plation to paint a companion picture of English Christmas Revels, 
 but he never carried out the intention. One can perfectly under- 
 stand Scott's relish of the ' May Day.' It must have been a pic- 
 ture after his own heart, full as it is of old-world rustic manners 
 and merriment, and all astir with the wholesome, fresh, sunshiny, 
 out-door life of the " Merry England," we are all fain to believe 
 in. 
 
 London, April 2nd, 1821. 
 
 It was a great disappointment to me to hear from Miss Foote 
 that you intend staying abroad all summer ; for I had somehow or 
 other settled it in my mind that we should have had you over with 
 the fine weather, though it is true your letters gave me no reason 
 to think so. Blue-green fair and even Greenwich and Fairlop 
 will lose half their charms for me without you. At Greenwich it 
 is true we shall have Peter Powell, who has taken the attic of a 
 cottage there for the summer ; but there is some danger that Peter 
 will set up a booth for the exhibition of his old women, or else 
 gallant that imaginary bear or flock of sheep through the crowd ;f 
 and if so we shall have but little good of him. 
 
 I am now within a week of finishing my 'May Day.' Sir 
 Walter Scott came to see it, and nothing could be more gratifying 
 
 * See my Introductory Essay. 
 
 f Alluding to Peter Powell's Drawing-room Entertainments, described in the 
 Autobiography. 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 233 
 
 than the opinion he expressed. He said he would come again to 
 see it, and wanted to know where ' Sir Roger ' * was that he 
 might pay him a visit. His manner was particularly kind and 
 friendly. He talked a great deal about you, and requested me 
 when I wrote to give you his most affectionate regards. Sir Wal- 
 ter is sitting to Lawrence, which I am very glad of, as we shall 
 now have a more intellectual portrait of him than any of the oth- 
 ers. Most of the drawings from ' Knickerbocker ' are with the 
 engravers. There is little hope of their being done however be- 
 fore Christmas. I made a more finished one from the sketch of 
 Rip Van Winkle you sent me, with which Murray was much 
 pleased, and am now doing another of Ichabod Crane teaching 
 Katrina to sing, which is the last I am to do for him. 
 
 The Childe has made a very brilliant little sketch from Moliere 
 of a genteel love quarrel. A lady and gentleman returning mini- 
 atures, letters, &c, &c. — the lady's maid tittering behind the 
 chair of her mistress. It promises to be his best picture. Mar- 
 tin's picture of ' Belshazzar's Feast ' has gained him great reputa- 
 tion. He has sold it, and received a commission from the Mar- 
 quis of Buckingham to paint the ' Destruction of Herculaneum,' a 
 very fine subject for him. I find I am writing about nothing but 
 pictures to you, but I have an impression that the Childe has 
 written very lately, and has told you whatever other news has 
 occurred in our circle. Remember me most affectionately to 
 your brother. Yours truly, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Paris. 
 
 London, April 20th, 1821. 
 Dear Betsey, — * * * Until within the last fortnight I have 
 been closely engaged with my picture of ' May Day,' which is at 
 last finished and sent to Somerset House. My friends are san- 
 guine as to its success, and I myself consider it the best thing I 
 have done. Did I tell you the purpose for which it is painted ? It 
 is for a print; and I am to have two hundred guineas for it, with 
 the privilege of selling it, if I can, for a still higher price, and re- 
 * The picture of Sir Roger de Coverley going to Church. 
 
234 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1821- 
 
 ceiving the difference, under the condition of the purchaser's allow- 
 ing the engraving to be taken either from it or from a copy. Sir 
 Walter Scott has been lately in London, and came twice to see it 
 when in progress : the first visit I had taken the liberty to request, 
 but the second, which you may believe gratified me not a little, 
 was of his own proposing. He found fault with nothing in my 
 picture, but suggested the introduction of a few archers, a hint of 
 which I took advantage. His hearty kindness of manner is pecu- 
 liarly delightful. 
 
 The first day he called, I was so intoxicated with delight by an 
 honour which, though I had solicited, I scarcely expected, know- 
 ing how fully he was engaged, that I could not paint for the re- 
 mainder of the day. Sir Thomas Lawrence has painted an 
 inimitable head of him. I am extremely obliged by your candid, 
 and as I feel them to be very just, remarks on my defects in 
 colour, chiaroscuro, &c, which, be assured, I shall spare no pains 
 to correct as much as possible, though in these important points, 
 I have little hope of ever excelling, least of all in colour, for 
 which I am afraid I have not a good natural eye. 
 
 London, May 25, 1821. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — I received some time ago the letter you 
 enclosed in a packet to Newton, and should have answered it 
 sooner but for various reasons, the principal and best one an utter 
 distaste to letter- writing, even to you. I have little to say, for 
 we are all rather dull at present and miss you more than ever. 
 
 My picture has been as successful with the public as my most 
 sanguine friends could have anticipated. It is very well placed, 
 but I have lately been seeing such fine things of the old masters 
 at the private galleries, that I am quite out of conceit of it my- 
 self. The more I see of the Dutch School, the more I venerate 
 them, and the more hopeless appears the chance of ever coming 
 near them. One of the greatest treats I ever had, was lately at 
 Mr. Hope's Gallery, who has the finest collection in London. 
 There is a very good exhibition open at the British Gallery of 
 the old masters. I have not yet been able to think of another 
 subject; can you help me to one? Mr. Murray wants me to 
 paint him a picture. He would have bought the ' May Day,' but 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 235 
 
 it is too large for his room. The plates for your works are all in 
 the hands of the engravers. 
 
 Newton is copying his picture of the i Importunate Author ' 
 for the Earl of Carlisle. Peter Coxe has volunteered to sit for 
 the poet. Luke's doings are at present with closed doors, en- 
 veloped in mystery. 
 
 Peter Powell is enjoying the rainy weather at Greenwich. 
 We have heard that you are getting to like Paris, and that you 
 intend spending the summer in Normandy. 
 
 The exhibition this year is a very good one, Lawrence has 
 sent his best portraits. Wilkie has a beautiful little interior. 
 The subject he calls ' Guess my Name.' There is a fine buxom 
 lass running into the room (which is the inside of a cottage) and 
 blinding the eyes of a young man who sits at the table writing a 
 letter. The effect of the sun shining into the window is quite 
 magical. Mulready has a very clever picture of a girl just about 
 to thrash a boy who has been sent of an errand and is playing at 
 marbles. He has set down a young child and a pound of candles, 
 and both are melting in the sun. 
 
 Young Landseer has a most exquisite picture of dogs hunting 
 rats with a ferret, full of expression. Etty's * Cleopatra ' is a 
 splendid triumph of colour. It has some defects of composition, 
 but is full of passages of that exquisite kind of beauty, which he 
 alone can give. 
 
 All our clan unite with me in love to you and your brother. 
 
 Ever yours, C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, 
 Paris. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Edgbaston Castle, Oct. Qth, 1821. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have been looking for a letter from 
 you every day. Why don't you drop me a line ? It would be 
 particularly cheering just now. I have not been out of the 
 house since you left here; having been much indisposed by a 
 cold, I am at the mercy of every breath of air that blows. I 
 have had pains in my head, my face swollen, and yesterday 
 
236 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 passed the greater part of the day in bed, which is a very extra- 
 ordinary thing for me. To-day I feel better ; but I am sadly out 
 of order, and what especially annoys me is that I see day after 
 day and week after week passing away without being able to do 
 anything. The little folks lament your departure extremely. 
 George has made his appearance in a new pair of Grimaldi 
 breeches, with pockets full as deep as the former. To balance 
 his ball and marbles he has the opposite pocket filled with a peg- 
 top and a prodigious quantity of dry peas, so that he can only he 
 comfortably on his back or his belly. The three eldest boys kept 
 the house in misery for two or three days by pea-blowers, which 
 they had bought, at an enormous price, of a tin-man. They at 
 last broke the blowers, and George pocketed the peas. He says 
 he means to take care of them till his brothers come home at 
 Christmas. Have you begun any new picture yet, or have you 
 any immediately in contemplation? I received a letter from 
 Newton, which I presume was forwarded by your direction. 
 Why did you not open it? It was dated the 15th September. 
 He had arrived but two or three days" ; had sailed up the Seine 
 from Havre to Rouen, with my brothers in the steam-boat. He 
 had dined with Morse ; had passed a day in the Louvre, where 
 he met Wilkie, and strolled the gallery with him. He speaks in 
 raptures of the Louvre. He says it strikes him in quite a differ- 
 ent way from what it did when he was there before. He intended 
 to go to work a day or two afterwards, and expected to pass the 
 greater part of his time there. 
 
 Have you seen Murray ? When you see him you need not 
 say where I am. I want the quiet and not to be bothered in any 
 way. Tell him I am in a country doctor's hands, at Edgbaston, 
 somewhere in Warwickshire. I think that will puzzle any one, 
 as Edgbaston has been built only within a year or two. Get me 
 all the pleasant news you can, and then sit down in the evening 
 and scribble a letter, without minding points or fine terms. My 
 sister is very anxious to hear of you. You have quite won her 
 heart, not so much by your merits, as by your attention to the 
 children. By the way, the little girls have become very fond of 
 the pencil since you were here, and are continually taking their 
 dolls' likenesses. Ever yours, W. I. 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 237 
 
 The following joint letter from Leslie and his quaint little 
 friend and present chum, Peter Powell, gives a pleasant peep 
 into their cheerful, innocent, scrambling student life : — 
 
 London, Oct. 22nd, 1821. 
 My Dear Irving, — I should have replied to your letter of 
 the 7th immediately, but as I had written to you the day before I 
 received it, I thought by waiting a few days I might have an 
 answer to that to reply to at the same time. I hope you have 
 now weathered out the severe attack you have had. I regretted 
 very much when I found you had been so ill, that I had not 
 stayed a week longer at Birmingham. If I did not know that 
 there may be many causes beside sickness for your delaying to 
 write to me, I should now be in great anxiety from not having 
 received an answer to my letter. I hope, however, you will write 
 immediately to let us know how you are. If you are too busy, 
 or not in the mood to send a regular letter, a single line will do. 
 Powell and I commenced housekeeping a week ago. It is prob- 
 able that nothing will more astonish you on your return than the 
 metamorphosis at Buckingham Place. Not to speak of window 
 curtains, a pianoforte, small knives and plates at breakfast, you 
 will be surprised to find an academy established on the principle 
 of mutual education in various branches of learning and the fine 
 arts. During breakfast Powell gives me a lesson in French. At 
 five we both study carving. After tea I teach him to draw the 
 figures, and at odd times he instructs himself in German and the 
 pianoforte, and once a week he unfolds to me the mysteries of 
 political economy according to Cobbett. Instruction is even ex- 
 tended beyond our walls, as far indeed as Sloane Street, where 
 Powell delivers a weekly lecture on perspective. In this way we 
 pass the time ; and I am quite sure that if I get through the 
 winter as I have passed the last week, and with you and Newton 
 here, it will be the most agreeable one I shall have spent in 
 London. I was glad to hear of Newton from you. I did not see 
 his letter or I should have opened it. I am at present painting 
 the portraits of two little girls, and making a drawing from the 
 4 Royal Poet,' the incident of the dove flying into the window.* 
 * From Irving's ' Sketch Book.' 
 
238 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 Powell has promised to fill up the sheet, I must therefore bid you 
 good-bye. Luke is well, and sends his love to you. I have not 
 yet seen Mr. Murray. I was very much diverted with your 
 account of George. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 P. S. I know not that it is in my power to add much to the 
 description my affectionate chum has given of our perfect happi- 
 ness, except that by a new philosophical arrangement of mine, 
 long legs have been prohibited from engrossing the whole of the 
 fireplace, and little legs stand a much greater chance than formerly 
 of getting their shins warmed, and much less of getting them 
 kicked. The simple means by which I have effected this is truly 
 admirable, but I apprehend that a much more elaborate and 
 powerful apparatus will be hereafter required, when the Leggi 
 become accumulated. The Newton alone will demand a great 
 mechanical power to move. I am beginning to be ashamed of 
 the prejudices I had imbibed about Buckingham Place. All prej- 
 udices are hateful, and people ought to live in every spot they 
 do not like, in order to ascertain whether their opinions are well 
 or ill-founded. There are many charms about this place, the 
 enjoyment of which I never contemplated. While I am now 
 writing, in addition to the enjoyment of my tea and rolls, a sort 
 of troubadour is warbling beneath my window, together with the 
 partner of his bosom and a little natural production between both, 
 equally regardless of fame and weather, and seemingly smitten 
 only by the love of halfpence — the pleasure of getting which in 
 this neighbourhood must, I suppose, like that of angling, be 
 greatly increased by the rarity of the bite. Those things about 
 us here, that to the common view appear disagreeable, tend to 
 increase our happiness. The repose and quiet of our evening 
 talk or studies is rendered still more so by its contrast with a 
 matrimonial squabble in the street, or the undisguised acknowl- 
 edgment of pain in the vociferations of a whipped urchin up the 
 Court. We are also much more pastoral here than you would 
 imagine. 
 
 We have a share in a cow, which makes its appearance twice a 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 239 
 
 day in a blue and white cream-jug. We eat our own dinners ! 
 and generally have enough. Yesterday, to be sure, we came a 
 little short, in consequence of Leslie (who acts as maitre d'hotel) 
 having ordered a sumptuous hash to be made from a cold shoul- 
 der of lamb, the meat of which had been previously stripped 
 from it with surgical dexterity by our host himself during the 
 three preceding days. There have been a great many disputes in 
 all ages about the real situation of Paradise. I have not, to be 
 sure, read all the arguments upon the subject ; but if I were to 
 go entirely by my own judgment, I should guess it to be some- 
 where near the corner of Cambridge Court, Fitzroy Square. 
 Adieu, and increased health to you. 
 
 Yours, &c, &c, &c, 
 
 P. P. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Birmingham. 
 
 Edgbaston, Oct. 25, 1821. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I thank you a thousand times for your 
 letter. I had intended to have answered your preceding one be- 
 fore ; but I am not in mood or condition to write, and had nothing 
 to say worth writing. I am still in the hands of the physician. 
 I have taken draughts and pills enough to kill a horse, yet I can- 
 not determine whether I am not rather worse off than when I 
 began. 
 
 On one favourable day of my complaint I rode over to Solihull 
 in a gig to see the boys. I went in a gig with Van Wart and 
 our worthy little friend, George. I wished you with us a dozen 
 times. You would have been delighted with the school-house 
 and the village, and the beautiful old church, and the surrounding 
 landscape. It is all picture. When you are here again you 
 must by all means visit the boys at school. The young rogues 
 are as hearty and happy as ever schoolboys were. They took us 
 about their walks, and the scenes of their enterprises and expe- 
 ditions ; the neighbouring park, and several charming fields and 
 green lanes. The morning's ramble ended at the shop of one of 
 the best old women in the world, who sells cakes and tarts to all 
 the schoolboys. Here they all spoiled their dinners, and nearly 
 
240 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 ruined their papa ; and George, with a citizen-like munificence, 
 having eaten till he was fairly tired, distributed sundry cakes at 
 the door to some of the poor children of the village. I have no 
 doubt that he has left a most excellent name behind him. The 
 little girls talk of you very often, and wish you here. They al- 
 ways wish to know whether you do not mention them in your let- 
 ters, and beg that I will give their love to you. I am babbling 
 about nothing but children ; but, in truth, they are my chief com- 
 pany and amusement at present, and I have little else to talk 
 about. 
 
 I cannot at this moment suggest anything for your Christmas 
 piece. I do not know your general plan. Is it to be a daylight 
 piece, or an evening round a hall fire? Is there no news of 
 Newton ? If I had thought he would remain so long at Paris I 
 would have written to him. I am glad to hear that you are so 
 snugly fixed with friend Powell for the winter, though I should 
 have been much better pleased to have heard that you were 
 turned neck and heels into the street. Reconcile it to yourself as 
 you may, I shall ever look upon your present residence as a most 
 serious detriment to you ; and were you to lose six or even 
 twelve months in looking for another, I should think you a gainer 
 upon the whole. 
 
 What prospects are there of the plates being finished for 
 \ Knickerbocker ' and the ' Sketch Book ' ? When do you be- 
 gin a large picture, and what subject do you attack first? It 
 is time you had something under weigh. I must leave a space to 
 reply to friend Peter, so farewell for the present. 
 
 Yours, ever, 
 
 W. L 
 
 Edgbaston, Nov. 2, 1821. 
 Mr Dear Leslie, — I wish to heaven you would drop me a 
 line now and then, and give me all the chit-chat you can to cheer 
 and interest me. It would be charity just now, when I am shut 
 up from the world, and suffering in health and spirits. I have 
 dismal letters from America. My sister has lost two of her 
 daughters by sudden and brief illness ; the last, her eldest, a fine 
 girl of seventeen. These distresses have affected her own health. 
 
1821.1 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 241 
 
 There are no hopes entertained of my brother William's recovery. 
 I received letters yesterday that gave these accounts, and have 
 quenched every spark of animation or cheerfulness in me. I am 
 still preyed upon by this tedious complaint, and find the eruption 
 on my legs worse than ever, while the general tone of my system 
 is relaxed and enervated by this nursing and confinement. I 
 have now given you reasons enough why I cannot write often to 
 you ; but why you should write occasionally to me. I have no 
 news to give, and no cheerful feelings to write from. You are in 
 London where everything is news, and can tell me of your own 
 occupations, which are' always interesting to me. I want you, 
 therefore, to give me a more gossipping letter. Tell me what 
 news there is of Newton, and when he is expected back. I am 
 surprised at his remaining so long at Paris, since he says he is 
 tired of it. 
 
 What pictures are you about ? What one do you intend to 
 paint for the exhibition ? Have you done anything to Sir Roger ? 
 Do you intend to attack the Christmas piece, and what is your 
 plan ; is it to be a fire-side piece or not ? Do you think of the 
 Shakespeare subjects ? One of these ought to be your choice in 
 preference to the 1 Heiress ' for your next subject. I do not think 
 the ' Heiress ' would be striking enough, at least it has never 
 struck me as being calculated to bring out your powers in any 
 force. 
 
 What is Luke doing ? Has he any promising subject in hand ? 
 I hope you and Peter * are getting comfortably through the 
 honeymoon, and find housekeeping pleasant. I only fear that 
 your not being obliged to go out for your dinner will make you 
 take less exercise than before, and your health will suffer. My 
 own case is a proof how one really loses by overwriting oneself, 
 and keeping too intent upon a sedentary occupation. I attribute 
 all my present indisposition, which is losing me time, spirits, every- 
 thing, to two fits of close application, and neglect of all exercise, 
 while I was at Paris. I am convinced that he who devotes two 
 hours each day to vigorous exercise, will eventually gain those 
 two and a couple more into the bargain. 
 
 * Peter Powell. 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 London, Nov. 5, 1821. 
 My Dear Irving, — I was extremely grieved at hearing 
 such bad accounts from you. I hope I need not assure you how 
 much I partake of all your sorrows. I only wish it were possible 
 by so doing to lighten them. I had hoped by this time to have 
 heard of your recovery. Are you sure that you have the best 
 medical advice ? In every other respect you must be more com- 
 fortable where you are than you could be anywhere else. Jones 
 says there are excellent physicians at Birmingham ; and Charles 
 Williams speaks of a Dr. Frere who is very eminent. Mr. Van 
 Wart, however, must be the best judge. Newton tells me he has 
 written to you. The poor fellow has met with a severe blow in 
 the loss of his mother, whose death he heard of the night of his 
 arrival in London. I saw Moore at Newton's ; he lately passed 
 through Birmingham, and was very sorry he did not know you 
 were there. Moore is extricated from all his pecuniary difficul- 
 ties, and has sold his ' Life of Lord Byron ' to Murray for two 
 thousand guineas ; the contract was signed by them on Saturday 
 at Newton's room. Moore expresses the warmest interest in 
 your welfare. Newton has improved my sketch of Paul Vero- 
 nese wonderfully ; it is now invaluable to us as a study of col- 
 ouring. 
 
 Powell and I suit each other extremely well ; I do not find 
 that I take less exercise than I used to do. I have painted two 
 portraits since my return, and have made a drawing from the 
 ' Royal Poet ' which I shall show Murray in a day or two. Not- 
 withstanding your objections to my ' Heiress,' I must paint it. I 
 have not yet sufficiently made up my mind about a large picture, 
 and it will not do to engage in one prematurely. Don't dissuade 
 me from painting the ' Heiress,' for you will only damp me and 
 prevent my doing it as well as I otherwise should. I do not ex- 
 pect to make a very important picture of it, but it is a commis- 
 sion, and will not take me very long.* Besides, I mean to make 
 it pay well. 
 
 I went the other day with Peter to see an exhibition of spar- 
 
 * He did paint it, but not till 1845, for E. Bicknell, Esq., in whose gallery, 
 at Hearne Hill, it now hangs. 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 243 
 
 ring at ' Fives Court/ and was very much amused. I wished for 
 you, for who should I meet at the door in capacity of check-taker, 
 but our friend the free-and-easy writer at the 1 Gipsey House.' * 
 He turns out to be a bruiser, who at the time we saw him there 
 was in training to fight a pitched battle ; so that it is lucky for us 
 we did not take umbrage at his familiarity. He has fought twice, 
 and though beaten both times is considered a " very game man." 
 Among the crowd in the court were two heroes, "Belasco the 
 Jew" and another (whose name I have forgotten), who had 
 fought each other the day before at Moulsey. Belasco has won, 
 though they were both in most woeful plight. Their heads had 
 become too large for their hats, which were balanced on the top 
 of a large bandage of Belcher handkerchief that obscured an 
 eye and cheek of each of them, and it was difficult to imagine 
 the invisible half of their faces to be in worse trim than that 
 which was seen, which shone resplendent with the high polish 
 produced by swelling, exhibiting all the hues of the rainbow. 
 One could not open, nor the other shut his mouth. The bruised 
 carcases of these " knights of the rueful countenance " were en- 
 veloped in wrap-rascals, in which they moved about stiffly, and 
 occasionally sat down with all the cautiousness of men in whom 
 the sense of touch was delicately alive. Belasco's friends were 
 gathered round him, making up a match for him to fight somebody 
 else as soon as he was well ; and the admirers of the other were 
 comforting him by showing him where he had made the grand 
 mistake, and how he might have gained the battle on the pre- 
 ceding day. 
 
 Luke is very well, he will write to you soon and speak for 
 himself. He intends painting a large view of Greenwich Hos- 
 pital, Park, &c. from the hill, where you may recollect his rolling 
 his purse overboard one fine summer day. The " Childe " has 
 begun a portrait of Moore, which will be very like. Murray in- 
 tends having his picture of you engraved. 
 
 Give my love to the " wee things " at Edgbaston, and let me 
 know from time to time how the Citizen does, and what progress 
 the little ladies are making in the fine arts, and whether Washing- 
 ton still regards your flute with that look of unutterable veneration 
 * Referring to some of their suburban fair experiences. 
 
244 
 
 EXTKACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 with which he used to turn up his eyes to it, whether in your 
 hands or quietly reposing on the top of the bookcase. Write us 
 a bulletin every day or two of the state of your health. A single 
 line will do, but as much more as you please. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Birmingham 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Edgbaston, Nov. 8, 1821. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I congratulate you with all my soul on 
 your admission to the Royal Academy, of which friend Luke has 
 just given me the tidings. It is no more than what you have long 
 deserved, but it is not always that a man gets what he deserves. 
 I did not mean to undervalue your study of the ' Heiress,' only 
 in comparison with the other subjects you had in contemplation. 
 The others are uncommonly rich and striking, and fittest to draw 
 out your peculiar powers in delineating character, costume, &c, 
 &c. I have no doubt but you will make a very excellent thing 
 of the i Heiress,' and the landscape that you sketched at Haddon 
 Hall will enrich it, and give it architectural interest, and pic- 
 turesque associations. 
 
 By-the-by, whenever you want to gather a little information 
 about Haddon Hall, you will find a description of it with a plate 
 or two in the sixth volume of the Archaeologia. You will find 
 that work a mine of antiquarian knowledge, and curious facts as 
 to customs, architecture, dress, &c. It is in many quarto volumes 
 by the Antiquarian Society. In the ninth and tenth volumes of 
 the ' Censura Literaria ' are elaborate disquisitions on hawking 
 and hunting by Hazlewood. 
 
 Your letter of the 5th was most acceptable and gratifying, and 
 I thank you for a vast deal of amusement afforded me by the 
 description of the ' Milling School.' I think Willis has pitched 
 upon a famous good thing in his contemplated picture ; depend 
 upon it he will gain himself both honour and profit by it. If he 
 
1821.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 245 
 
 succeeds, as I am convinced he will, I would advise him to make 
 a companion to it in a view of Paris from one of the neighbour- 
 ing hills. 
 
 As to my medical advices, I have had the advice of one of' the 
 best surgeons here, a skilful man ; I fear however, I shall be a 
 long time getting rid of this complaint. The Citizen * has been 
 unwell from a cold, but is getting better. He has lately become 
 something of a theologian, and has taken a great notion to talk 
 about the Deity, and asks many very odd questions. I heard 
 him instructing his little sisters the other day on the subject, and 
 assuring them, among other things, ' " that nothing could hurt 
 God," " a horse could not bite him." He tells me long stories 
 every evening as we lie on the sofa together. They however all 
 turn upon the same things — the adventures of two little girls, 
 who walk in a wood where they are chased by a " savage cart 
 horse " until they run into a gentleman's house, where they have 
 a fine supper, and in setting out the supper-table the Citizen gen- 
 erally exhausts his fancy and the residue of his short evening. 
 All the children talk about you continually, and Marianne begs 
 her mamma, when she writes to you, to tell you that if you don't 
 come to Birmingham, she will come after you to London. 
 
 God bless you, my dear Leslie. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 W. I. 
 
 London, Dec. 5, 1821. 
 My Dear Irving, — I should have written to you before, 
 but we have been every day expecting to see you for some time 
 past. I am afraid Newton's bed-room would be too small for you 
 to sit in, and in his sitting-room you would be constantly exposed 
 to interruptions from his visitors. I will look about to-morrow to 
 see if I can find anything that I think will suit you, and write you 
 a description of what I see and the terms, without entering into 
 any engagement. I hope you will make up your mind to come 
 to London before the weather gets too cold. I am afraid from the 
 continuance of your complaint you have not good medical advice ; 
 here you may have the best. I think if we had you among us 
 * One of his little nephews so nicknamed. 
 
246 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1821. 
 
 here we could cheer you up a little, and the change of scene would 
 help to lighten in some degree the heavy affliction you have suf- 
 fered. 
 
 I cannot give a very good account of myself since I last wrote, 
 for I have not yet begun my picture. I found the truth of your re- 
 mark, that success may sometimes check a man's exertions as well 
 as disappointment. My election threw me out a little. In the first 
 place I had forty visits to pay to the Academicians ; in the next I 
 had to attend a council and hear a speech from Sir Thomas, and 
 receive my diploma, and after that to make my appearance among 
 the members at the lectures. I have now got through these cere- 
 monies, and am getting to work again. I find this event has given 
 me a fresh stock of spirits, and I even think of health. 
 
 Since writing the above it has occurred to us, that if no other 
 suitable lodgings are to be had, we can make you comfortable (for 
 a short time at least) here. Don't start — it is even so. Powell's 
 sitting-room can be made as warm as you please, and you have no 
 idea of the improvement in its appearance since the introduction 
 of window curtains, &c. My advice is, therefore, that you set off, 
 the first fine day, for London, without taking a thought of what is 
 to become of you here — and I am very much mistaken if we 
 can't among us make you comfortable ; at least till we can find 
 you suitable apartments to write in. 
 
 Yours ever. 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Edgbaston, Dec. 8th, 1821. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I feel most sensibly the kindness of 
 your letter, which, however, is just like yourself — full of good- 
 ness. 
 
 I should feel tempted to come to London at once, and to try 
 how I could make out at Newton's quarters, which, upon the 
 whole, I think would best suit me ; but at present it is out of my 
 power. 
 
 Everything is done here to make me comfortable; my good 
 sister almost makes a child of me. 
 
 I hope to hear of your getting under weigh with another paint- 
 ing soon ; and trust that the good spirits and good health you 
 
1822.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 247 
 
 have picked up will enable you to dispatch the thing with spirit 
 and expedition. 
 
 You do not say how the engravings are going on for the new 
 editions of my works, nor whether you have shown Murray your 
 last sketch. 
 
 Give my hearty thanks to our worthy friend Powell for the 
 kind offer of his room. I long to be among you all once more. I 
 think a few tea drinkings with the old set would be of great ser- 
 vice to me. But the physicians have got hold of me, and I am 
 no longer my own man. I have kept clear of them all my life 
 till now ; and now they have got me in their clutches. I fear 
 they will make ' worms' meat ' of me before they let me go again. 
 
 God bless you, my dear boy. 
 
 P. S. — Let me hear from you now and then, for your letters 
 are better than medicine to me. How does Newton come on ? I 
 suppose he has nearly finished his ' Lovers' Quarrels, ' and is 
 ready for something else. He must have his mind in good tune 
 for composition after his visit to Paris. I will write to him when 
 next I write. I feel very deeply his kindness with respect to his 
 rooms. Indeed, I feel towards you all more than it is necessary 
 • to express. You are often the theme of conversation with them 
 and the children, and I can assure you that a visit from you at 
 any time would be quite a jubilee in the household. " 
 
 1822. 
 
 Exhibited Picture of the Year. 
 
 The Rivals.* (Painted for Sir Matthew White Ridley. Engraved by Fin- 
 den, and lithographed by R. T. Lane, A.R.A.) 
 
 During the year, Irving was once more on the continent in 
 quest of health. He travelled through Germany in the course 
 of the summer, and writes to Leslie in December from Dresden. 
 
 * This picture was Exhibited at Manchester in 1857, by its then possessor, 
 E. Rodgett, Esq. There is a small repetition of it, with some variations, in 
 the possession of Edwin Bullock, Esq., of Handsworth, near Birmingham. 
 
248 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1822. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Dresden, Dec. 2nd, 1822. 
 My Dear Leslie, — I wrote to Newton from Munich, and 
 had hoped before this to have had a reply ; but have been dis- 
 appointed. I am very anxious to hear from you all, and to know 
 what you are still doing. For my part, my whole summer has 
 been devoted to travelling, gazing about, and endeavouring to ac- 
 quire a good state of health, in which latter I am happy to say I 
 have in a great measure succeeded. By dint of bathing, and a 
 little attention to diet, I have conquered the malady that so ldng 
 rendered me almost a cripple ; and the exercise, change of air, 
 and refreshment of spirits incident to travelling, have operated 
 most favourably on my general health. Since I wrote to New- 
 ton, I have been among the Salzbourg Mountains : then by the 
 way of Linz to Vienna, where I remained nearly a month ; then 
 through part of Moravia and Bohemia, stopping a few days at 
 the fine old city of Prague, to this place, where I mean to winter. 
 How I should have liked to have you as a travelling companion 
 throughout my summer's tour. You would have found continual 
 exercise for the pencil, and objects of gratification and improve- 
 ment in the noble galleries that abound in the principal German 
 cities. I shall now take a master and go to work to study Ger- 
 man. If I can get my pen to work, so much the better ; but it 
 has been so long idle that I fear it will take some time to get it 
 in a working mood. I hope you have made some more designs 
 for my works, and that the engravings are finished of those that 
 were in hand. Take care to get for me Allston's design for the 
 ' Judgment of Wouter Van Twiller ; ' and endeavour, if possible, 
 to get all the originals into your hands. How do you come on in 
 housekeeping ? Have you got to new and comfortable quarters ? 
 How often have I thought of you in exploring some of these old 
 German towns, where you might have a wing of a deserted 
 palace almost for nothing. Such glorious painting rooms, that 
 might be blocked up or pulled to pieces at your humour ! The 
 living in fact is wonderfully cheap in many of the finest cities of 
 Germany. In Dresden, for example, I have a very neat, com- 
 
1822.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 249 
 
 fortable, and prettily furnished apartment on the first floor of an 
 hotel ; it consists of a cabinet, with a bed in it, and a cheerful 
 sitting room that looks on the finest square. I am offered this 
 apartment for the winter at the rate of thirty-six shillings a 
 month. Would to heaven I could get such quarters in London 
 for anything like the money. I shall probably remain here un- 
 til the spring opens, as this is one of the pleasantest winter resi- 
 dences, and peculiarly favourable for the study of the German 
 language, which is here spoken in its purity. Which way I shall 
 direct my wanderings when I leave this I cannot say ; I find it is 
 useless to project plans of tours, as I seldom follow them, but am 
 apt to be driven completely out of my course by whim or circum- 
 stance. Do write to me, and direct your letters, " Poste restante, 
 Dresden." Let me hear all the news you can collect of our ac- 
 quaintances, and tell me what you are all doing. Have the Boll- 
 mans left Paris and returned to America ? How goes on Luke's 
 picture of Greenwich ? I presume it is nearly finished. What 
 subjects have you on hand, or what on view, &c, &c. ? I sent 
 you word in my letter to Newton that I wished you, when the 
 plates illustrating my works were published, to get some sets 
 from Murray for me, and send them to Mr Van Wart, to be for- 
 warded to my brother in America — one set to be given to Mr. 
 Brevoort of New York. I find by a letter from my brother, 
 that he met with that worthy personage, Mr. Peter Powell, at 
 Rouen, and that they had a world of pleasant conversation 
 together. 
 
 Farewell, my dear boy. 
 
 Give my hearty rememberance to the " Childe," Father Luke, 
 and all the rest of the fraternity ; not forgetting my excellent and 
 worthy friend Peter Powell. Yours ever, W. I. 
 
 I am unable to give any precise particulars as to Leslie's work 
 this year, having no letters of the year to his sisters. But he 
 was certainly engaged on a picture from ' Winter's Tale,' I pre- 
 sume the ' Autolycus,' afterwards painted for Mr. Sheepshanks, 
 and now in the National Gallery at South Kensington ; and he 
 may have already commenced his studies for his exquisite picture 
 of i Sancho in the Apartment of the Duchess,' now at Petworth. 
 
250 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1823. 
 
 1823. 
 
 Leslie's name does not appear in the Academy catalogue for 
 this year. He was at work on his picture of ' Sir Roger de 
 Coverley and the Gipsies/ but was unable to finish it to his mind. 
 
 Irving, still at Dresden, writes to him. 
 
 {March 15th, 1853.) 
 
 I have just been seized with a fit of letter writing, after hav- 
 ing nearly forgotten how to use my pen, so I take the earliest 
 stage of the complaint to scribble to you. I ha*d hoped to receive 
 a gratuitous letter from you before this, but you are one of those 
 close codgers who never pay more than the law compels them. I 
 am extremely sorry to hear from NeAvton that he has been so ill, 
 — though I am by no means surprised at it, as he played all 
 kinds of vagaries with a constitution naturally delicate. I trust 
 this fit of illness will teach him the necessity of daily and regular 
 attention to exercise and diet ; which all the advice in the world 
 will not beat into a young man's head. 
 
 There is more time lost by these daily attempts to gain time 
 than by anything else ; and he who will endeavour to cheat his 
 health out of an hour or two a day in extra fasting, or extra ap- 
 plication, will in the end have to pay days and weeks for those 
 hours. 
 
 How often I have wished for you and Newton during the last 
 eight or nine months, in the course of which I have been con- 
 tinually mingling in scenes full of character and picture. 
 
 The place where I am now passing my time is a complete 
 study. The court of this little kingdom of Saxony is, perhaps, 
 the most ceremonious and old-fashioned in Europe, and one finds 
 here customs and observances in full vigour that have long since 
 faded away in other courts. 
 
 The king is a capital character himself — a complete old 
 gentleman of the ancient school, and very tenacious in keeping up 
 the old style. He has treated me with the most marked kindness, 
 and every member of the royal family has shewn me great 
 
1823.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 251 
 
 civility. What would greatly delight you, is the royal hunting 
 establishment, which the king maintains at a vast expense, being 
 his hobby. He has vast forests stocked with game, and a com- 
 plete forest police, forest masters, chasseurs, piqueurs, jagers, &c, 
 &c.,* several hunting lodges — packs of hounds — horses, &c, 
 &c. The charm of the thing is, that all this is kept up in the old 
 style — and to go out hunting with him, you might fancy yourself 
 in one of those scenes of old times which we read of in poetry 
 and romance. I have followed him thrice to the boar hunt. The 
 last we had extremely good sport. The boar gave us a chase of 
 upwards of two hours, and was not overpowered until it had 
 killed one clog, and desperately wounded several others. It was 
 a very cold winter day, with much snow on the ground — but as 
 the hunting was in a thick pine forest, and the day was sunny, we 
 did not feel the cold. The king and all his hunting retinue were 
 clad in an old-fashioned hunting uniform of green, with green 
 caps. The sight of the old monarch and Ins retinue galloping 
 through the alleys of the forest — the jagers dashing singly about 
 in all directions, cheering the hounds — the shouts — the blast of 
 horns — the cry of hounds ringing through the forest, altogether 
 made one of the most animating scenes I ever beheld. 
 
 I have become very intimate with one of the king's forest 
 masters, who lives in a picturesque old hunting lodge with towers, 
 formerly a convent, and who has undertaken to shew me all the 
 economy of the hunting establishment. What glorious group- 
 ings, and what admirable studies for figures and faces I have seen 
 among these hunters. 
 
 By this time your painting of ' Autolycus ' must be nearly 
 finished. I long to have a description of it from Newton. Do 
 tell me something about it yourself. Have you thought of a sub- 
 ject for your next ? and have you entirely abandoned the scene 
 of Shakespeare being brought up for deer-stealing ? I think it 
 would be a subject that you would treat with peculiar felicity, 
 and you could not have one of a more general nature, since 
 Shakespeare and his scanty biography are known in all parts of 
 the world. Upon my soul, the more I think of it, the more I am 
 convinced it is a subject that you might make a masterpiece of ; it 
 is one you should paint at least as large as your ' May Day,' and 
 
252 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1824. 
 
 introduce a great number of figures. Do think of it. You. 
 might make a great impression by such a picture. 
 
 I have done nothing with my pen since I left you, absolutely 
 nothing! I have been gazing about, rather idly, perhaps, but 
 yet among fine scenes of striking character, and I can only hope 
 that some of them may stick to my mind, and furnish me with 
 materials in some future fit of scribbling. 
 
 I have been fighting my way into the German language, and 
 am regaining my Italian, and for want of more profitable employ- 
 ment, have turned play-actor. 
 
 We have been getting up private theatricals here at the house 
 of an English lady. I have already enacted Sir Charles Rackett 
 in ' Three Weeks after Marriage,' with great applause, and am 
 on the point of playing Don Felix in £ The Wonder.' I had no 
 idea of this fund of dramatic talent lurking within me ; and I now 
 console myself that if the worst comes to the worst, I can turn 
 stroller, and pick up a decent maintenance among the barns in 
 England. I verily believe nature intended me to be a vagabond. 
 
 P. S. — I hope you intend to make some designs for Brace- 
 bridge Hall. I would rather have the work illustrated by you 
 than by any one else." 
 
 1824. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited). Sancho Panza* in the Apartment op the Duchess.— 
 " First and foremost I must tell }>x>u. I look on my master, Don Quixote, 
 to be no better than a downright madman, though sometimes he will stum- 
 ble upon a parcel of sayings so quaint and so tightly put together, that the 
 devil himself could not mend them; but in the main, I cannot beat it out 
 of my noddle, but that he is as mad as a March hare. Now, because I am 
 pretty confident of knowing his blind side, whatever crotchets come into 
 my crown, though without either head or tail, yet can I make them pass 
 on him for Gospel. Such was the answer to his letter and another sham 
 that I put upon him the other day, and is not in print yet, touching my 
 Lady Dulcinea's enchantment; for you must know, between you and I, she 
 is no more enchanted than the man in the moon." — Don Quixote,' Vol. 3, 
 Chap. 33. (R. A. Catalogue, 1824.) 
 Painted for the Earl of Egremont, repeated for Mr. Vernon, and now in 
 
 * See Introduction. 
 
1824.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 253 
 
 the National Collection, South Kensington. Repeated a second time for 
 Mr. Rogers. A third repetition was painted for one of the painter's sisters, 
 in America, and is now in this country, in the possession of John Farn- 
 worth, Esq. 
 
 (Not exhibited.) Portrait of Lady Harriet Gurney. — Portrait of Sir 
 Walter Scott (for Mr. Ticknor, of Boston). Repeated. 
 
 This year was memorable to Leslie for many reasons. It in- 
 cluded the death of a mother to whom he was deeply attached ; 
 his visit to Sir Walter Scott, at Abbotsford ; and the painting of 
 his ' Sancho,' for Lord Egremont. I need add nothing to the 
 tribute which Leslie has paid in his Autobiography to Lord Egre- 
 mont's munificence, his kindness of heart to all about him, and 
 his little less than paternal kindness to Leslie himself, extended 
 after his marriage to his wife and children. The patronage of 
 Lord Egremont drew after it that of others of his order, and to it 
 Leslie always attributed much of his after success. The best 
 description I know of Lord Egremont and Petworth in his time, 
 is Haydon's. I quote it here, as his emphatic style of describing 
 the place and the owner, and his characteristic letter of acknowl- 
 edgment, are worth contrasting with Leslie's way of treating the 
 subject, though both descriptions result in giving one the same 
 impression of Lord Egremont's singular geniality and goodness 
 of heart. 
 
 "November 13th. — Set off for Petworth, where I arrived at 
 half-past three. Lord Egremont's reception was frank and noble. 
 The party was quite a family one. All was frank good-humour 
 and benevolence. Lord Egremont presided and helped, laughed 
 and joked, and let others do the same." 
 
 "November 16th. — Sketched and studied all day. I dine with 
 the finest Vandyke in the world — the Lady Ann Carr, Countess 
 of Bedford. It is beyond everything. — I really never saw such 
 a character as Lord Egremont. ' Live and let live ' seems to be 
 his motto. He has placed me in one of the most magnificent bed- 
 rooms I ever saw. It speaks more for what he thinks of my 
 talents than anything that ever happened to me. On the left of 
 the bed hangs a portrait of William, Lord Marquis of Hertford, 
 
254 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1S24. 
 
 elected Knight of the Garter 1649, and by act of parliament 
 restored Duke of Somerset 1660. Over the chimney is a noble- 
 man kneeling. A lady of high rank to the right. Opposite, 
 Queen Mary. Over the door, a head. On the right of the 
 cabinet, Sir Somebody. And over the entrance door, another 
 head. The bed-curtains are different-coloured velvets, let in on 
 white satin. The walls, sofas, easy chairs, carpets, green damask, 
 and a beautiful view of the park out of the high windows. 
 
 "There is something peculiarly interesting in the inhabiting 
 these apartments, sacred to antiquity, which have contained a 
 long list of deceased and illustrious ancestors. As I lay in my 
 magnificent bed, and saw the old portraits trembling in a sort of 
 twilight, I almost fancied I heard them breathe, and almost ex- 
 pected they would move out and shake my curtains. What a 
 destiny is mine ! One year in the Bench, the companion of 
 gamblers and scoundrels, — sleeping in wretchedness and dirt 
 on a flock bed, low and filthy, with black worms crawling over 
 my hands, — another, reposing in down and velvet, in a splendid 
 apartment, in a splendid house, the guest of rank, and fashion, 
 and beauty ! As I laid my head on my down pillow the first 
 night, I was deeply affected, and could hardly sleep. God in 
 heaven grant my future may now be steady. At any rate a 
 nobleman has taken me by the hand, whose friendship generally 
 increases in proportion to the necessity of its continuance. Such 
 is Lord Egremont. Literally like the sun. The very flies at 
 Petworth seem to know there is room for their existence ;• that 
 the windows are theirs. Dogs, horses, cows, deer, and pigs, peas- 
 antry and servants, guests and family, children and parents, all 
 share alike his bounty, and opulence, and luxuries. At breakfast, 
 after the guests have all breakfasted, in walks Lord Egremont ; 
 first comes a grandchild, whom he sends away happy. Outside 
 the window moan a dozen black Spaniels, who are let in, and to 
 them he distributes cakes and comfits, giving all equal shares. 
 After chatting with one guest, and proposing some scheme of 
 pleasure to others, his leathern gaiters are buttoned on, and away 
 he walks, leaving everybody to take care of themselves, with all 
 that opulence and generosity can place at their disposal entirely 
 within reach. At dinner he meets everybody, and then are re- 
 
1824.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 255 
 
 counted the feats of the day. All principal dishes he helps, never 
 minding the trouble of carving ; he eats heartily and helps liber- 
 ally. There is plenty, but not absurd profusion ; good wines, but 
 not extravagant waste. Everything solid, liberal, rich, and Eng- 
 lish. At seventy-four he still shoots daily, comes home wet 
 through, and is as active and looks as well as many men of 
 fifty. 
 
 " The meanest insect at Petworth feels a ray of his Lordship's 
 fire in the justice of its distribution. 
 
 " I never saw such a character, or such a man, nor were there 
 ever many. 
 
 " Before leaving that princely seat of magnificent hospitality, I 
 wrote, when I retired to my bed-room last night, the following 
 letter : — 
 
 "My Lord, 
 
 " I cannot leave Petworth without intruding my gratitude for 
 the princely manner in which I have been treated during my 
 stay, and in earnestly hoping your Lordship may live long, I only 
 add my voice to the voices of thousands, who never utter your 
 Lordship's name without a blessing. 
 
 " I am, my Lord, 
 " Your Lordship's humble and grateful servant, 
 
 " B. R. Haydon." 
 
 Leslie started for Abbotsford in August, and met Newton in 
 Edinburgh. The incidents of the journey are fully described in 
 letters to his sister, but Leslie has already drawn so freely on these 
 in his Autobiography, that I refrain from inserting them here. 
 Leslie was at this time an accepted suitor, and from one of his 
 letters to Miss Harriet Stone, soon to be Mrs. Leslie, I extract 
 the following : — 
 
 " Abbotsford, Sept. 12th, 1824. 
 
 " I have certainly enjoyed myself much more than I expected. 
 Such delightful weather as we have had ever since I have been 
 in Scotland, could not have been anticipated. Still I am very 
 
256 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM 
 
 [1824. 
 
 anxious to get back to London, and shall leave Scotland the 
 moment my engagements permit me. 
 
 ***** **** 
 " In my last letter, I gave you some account of this house and 
 its inmates, but said nothing about its situation. It stands close to 
 the Tweed (of which I have a very pretty view from the window 
 of the bed-room from which I am now writing) on the side of a 
 hill, and in the midst of hills, the highest of which are the Eildon, 
 alluded to in the ' Lay of the Last Minstrel,' and the Cowden- 
 knows, which gives the name to an old song. Melrose Abbey, a 
 most beautiful ruin, is situated at the foot of the Eildon hills, 
 about three miles from here, and not far off is a most romantic 
 glen, celebrated by one of the oldest Scottish poets, Thomas the 
 Rhymer, and where he met the Queen of the Fairies. There 
 is a mossy seat near a waterfall at the top of this glen, which 
 is a favourite haunt of the ' Great Unknown,' and which 
 he wished me to introduce into the picture I am painting ; but 
 it is far too good for a background. Near this glen is a very 
 pretty little mountain lake, on which Sir Walter maintains two 
 swans, and tells a story of a water bull that inhabits it ; indeed he 
 has anecdotes to relate of every little spot around him. What 
 the hills most want here are trees, a deficiency Sir W. is doing 
 all in his power to supply, by planting all the ground that belongs 
 to himself full of them. A few years will double the beauty of 
 the scenery here. The Tweed, though not a wide or deep stream, 
 is very ornamental, and makes some beautiful turns among the 
 hills, and the pebbly bed over which it flows gives it a fine voice. 
 Some poet calls it ' Well sung Tweed, baronial stream ; ' and I 
 suppose there is no river in Great Britain, the name of which 
 more frequently occurs in poetry, or is more connected with great 
 historical events. Mr. Lockhart, who is married to Sir Walter's 
 eldest daughter, lives in a very pretty cottage near Melrose Ab- 
 bey. I dined with him " yesterday. Newton is staying there, 
 and the two Miss Clephanes (Lady Comp ton's sisters), who gave 
 us some very delightful music in the evening. Mrs. Lockhart, 
 who has more of her father in her than any of Sir W.'s other 
 children, sings Scottish songs very beautifully. Now that I am 
 on the subject of songs, I must give you the fragments of a 
 
1824.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 257 
 
 Gloucestershire ditty Sir Walter repeated the other day. I think 
 you will agree with me in regretting there is not more of it. The 
 four first lines are particularly interesting, — 
 
 The stones, the stones, the stones, the stones, 
 
 The stones, the stones, the stones, the stones, 
 
 The stones, the stones, the stones, the stones, 
 
 The stones what built Jack Ridley's oven, 
 
 They all was fought (fetch'd) from Barclay quar' (quarry). * 
 
 " I must not omit to describe the dogs, who are very important 
 members of the family. Sir Walter is never seen unaccompanied 
 by two at least. There are a set of little ugly varlets of black 
 terriers, of the true Dandie Dinmont breed, named Spice, Ginger, 
 Mustard, and Whiskey ; a large greyhound called Hamlet, and a 
 very venerable old deer-hound of gigantic size, named Maida, be- 
 sides Lady Scott's own particular dog Risk, and sundry pointers 
 belonging to Charles Scott. 
 
 " The picture goes on to the satisfaction of all the family. * * 
 " I have no wish to go to the church at Melrose, for I am told 
 the parson is a very ridiculous old fellow ; and having heard Sir 
 Walter take him off one morning, I am sure I could not help 
 laughing were I to go. Newton, who goes to Edinburgh, will 
 carry this letter enclosed in one to my sister, but as his move- 
 ments are not so certain as those of the post, it is very probable 
 
 you may get another from me before this arrives." 
 
 ******* 
 
 " Abbotsford, Sept. 21st 1824. 
 ******* 
 " The portrait of Sir Walter is nearly finished ; but I find it 
 extremely difficult to satisfy myself with it. He dislikes sitting 
 very much. Yesterday he only gave me a quarter of an hour, 
 and then carried me off in his sociable, with two other gentlemen 
 who are staying here, to see the ' Yarrow,' famous in song, as, in- 
 deed, are all the Scottish rivers. We stopped at a seat of the 
 Duke of Buccleuch's, called Bow Hill, upon the grounds of which 
 stand the ruins of Newark Castle, formerly a palace of the kings 
 
 * This ditty is given at length in Mr. Hughes's " Scouring of the White 
 Horse." — Ed. 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1824. 
 
 of Scotland. The ruin is not in itself fine, but it stands, ' bosomed 
 high in tufted trees,' on an eminence, round the base of which the 
 river winds, and dashes away rocks and woods ; and the whole 
 together is very picturesque. The Yarrow here resembles the 
 ' bonny Doone,' with the advantage of having much higher hills 
 on each side of it. Sir Walter had ordered a detachment of the 
 1 doggies ' (as he calls them), consisting of two greyhounds and as 
 many terriers, that we might have some coursing on the ' braes of 
 Yarrow.' Charles Scott and a friend of his had accompanied us 
 on horseback. Owing to one of the dogs being too old, and the 
 other too young, they only killed one hare, and started two others, 
 which they lost. We saw a great deal of game on the Duke's 
 grounds, consisting of pheasants, blackcocks, and partridges ; and 
 I, who am entirely ignorant of all sorts of sporting, was much edi- 
 fied by the conversation of the party on the subject. Sir Walter 
 has been a keen sportsman in his youth. He started one of the 
 hares himself, and gave the view-hallo with the lungs of a Sten- 
 tor. Among the many interesting places pointed out to us by our 
 host on this occasion was the cottage in which Mungo Park, the 
 celebrated African traveller, was born, and where his mother still 
 lives. Sir Walter knew Park well, and describes him as a very 
 fine-looking man, and remarkable for personal strength. A few 
 days ago I made, at the request of Sir Walter, a sketch of his 
 game-keeper, Tom Purdey, who has lived with him sixteen years, 
 and is a very great favourite of his master's. Tom is now in de- 
 clining health, and Sir Walter's extreme solicitude about him, and 
 the attentions he pays him, are strong proofs (if any were wanting) 
 of the goodness of his heart. I was gratified the other day at 
 dinner by what I had been very anxious to see, namely, a haggis. 
 It was, however, a small one, by no means answering in appear- 
 ance to the idea Burns gives us of this ' chieftain of the pudding 
 race.' I found its contents, however, very good, and they told 
 me it was a genuine specimen, excepting as to size. I have now 
 tasted the principal Scotch dishes — hodge-podge, porridge (which 
 I never desire to see again), oat-cake, and Miss Scott has prom- 
 ised to have some bannocks of barley this morning at breakfast to 
 complete the list. There is a very patriotic song called the ' Ban- 
 nocks of Barley ' — indeed all the Scotch dishes are rendered 
 
1824.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 259 
 
 classical by their poets. All the company that were here when I 
 last wrote have gone, and there are only the two gentlemen men- 
 tioned above (literary men) here at present. I am afraid I shall 
 miss Wilkie, who is in Edinburgh, but will not, in all probability 
 be here till I have left. 
 
 " You wonder, you say, how I shall be able to bear London 
 after Scotland ; but in truth I am most anxious to get back. I 
 have enjoyed myself very much; but I am never contented to 
 be long on a visit, even among the most pleasant people in the 
 world. I want to be once more in my painting-room, and to 
 work again in earnest. I want to see my friends, and tell them 
 of all the wonders of Scotland, ******* an( j 
 over and above all, I want to see your dear little self again. It 
 required, as you know, a very great temptation to leave London 
 at the time I did, and the trial has only convinced me, more than 
 ever, how entirely my happiness depends upon you. 
 
 " I hope to finish Sir Walter's portrait to-morrow ; and if it is 
 dry enough I shall leave Abbotsford the next day. I shall then 
 be obliged to remain in Edinburgh a few days, to make a study 
 from a picture in Holyrood House. I suppose I can go to 
 Culross and return in one day ; and after that I shall set off for 
 London. As, however, I must stop in Norfolk for a few days, to 
 finish Lady Harriet Gurney's picture, I fear it will be a fortnight 
 yet before I shall have the pleasure of seeing you." 
 
 On his return home he spent a week in Edinburgh with Edwin 
 Landseer. Sir Walter, who had run up for a day to Edinburgh, 
 took Landseer back with him to Abbotsford, " where I am sure," 
 says Leslie, " he will make himself very popular, both with the 
 master and mistress of the house, by sketching their doggies for 
 them." 
 
 Irving, still in Paris, writes to express his satisfaction with the 
 illustrations from ' Knickerbocker.' 
 
260 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1824. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Paris, Feb. 8, 1824. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — It is a long while since I have heard 
 from either you or Newton. How are you both, and what are 
 you doing ? I see among the pieces to be exhibited at the British 
 Gallery, a t Don Quixote ' by Newton, which I presume is the 
 little picture made from poor Ogilvie, which I have before heard 
 of. Do you not intend to have anything ready for the next Exhi- 
 bition ? I long to see you again, to have some good long talks with 
 you. I wish you were here at present, I think you would do me 
 good. I am trying to get some manuscripts in order for a couple 
 more volumes of the ' Sketch Book,' but I have been visited by a 
 fit of sterility for this month past that throws me all aback, and 
 discourages me as to the hope of getting ready for a spring ap- 
 pearance. I have a Dutch story written, which I have shown to 
 friend Foy, for I like to consult brother artists. He thinks it 
 equal to any of my others. I think you would like it. I have 
 determined also to introduce my i History of an Author,' breaking 
 it into parts and distributing it through the two volumes. It had 
 grown stale with me, and I never could get into the vein suffi- 
 ciently to carry it on and finish it as a separate work. Besides, 
 the time that has elapsed without my either publishing or writing, 
 obliges me to make the most of what I have in hand and can 
 soonest turn to account. I have a few other articles sketched out 
 of minor importance. If I could only get myself into a brisk 
 writing mood, I could soon furnish the materials for two volumes, 
 and if these were well received and paid well, I should then have 
 leisure and means to pursue the literary plans I have in view. 
 But I am at this moment in a sad heartless mood, and nothing 
 seems to present to rouse me out of it. Write to me I beg of you, 
 and say something to stimulate and cheer me up. Do not say 
 anything of the forgoing literary confidings to any one. 
 
 I am . sorry to see ' Salmagundi ' is published at London with 
 all its faults upon its head. I have corrected a copy for Galignani, 
 whom I found bent upon putting it to press. My corrections con- 
 sist almost entirely in expunging words and here and there an 
 
1824.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 261 
 
 offensive sentence. I have a set of your illustrations of my 
 works ; they are admirable. I wish you had made others for 
 ' Bracebridge Hall,' or that you would still do so. I still think 
 your 6 Dutch Fireside ' worthy of being painted by you as a 
 cabinet picture. It is admirable. The engraving from Newton's 
 portrait of me is thought an excellent likeness by my brother, and 
 by others here. 
 
 I see Mr. Foy very frequently, and the more I see of him the 
 better I like him. I thank you for making me acquainted with 
 him. I am very much incommoded by visits and invitations, for 
 in spite of every exertion I find it impossible to keep clear of 
 society entirely without downright churlishness and incivility. 
 
 Do let me hear from you, my dear Leslie, as soon as you can 
 spare a moment to the pen. I am sure a letter from you will be 
 of service to me, as a visit from you has often been, when in one 
 of my dispirited moods. Give my best remembrances to your 
 sister, and to Newton when you see him. 
 
 Yours ever, W. I. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Paris, Rue Richelieu, No. 89, 
 Dec. 8, 1824. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have been for a long time intending 
 to write to you, but my spirit has been so inert as not to be able 
 to summon up a page full of ideas. However, as Brockedon is 
 on the point of starting, and will take a letter free of cost, I will 
 scrawl a line, if it is only in testimony of constant recollection. 
 
 The * Childe ' has given me a mere inkling of his northern 
 visit — just enough to tantalise curiosity. I wish you would give 
 me a few anecdotes on the subject. You must have had a rare 
 time ; and I envy above everything your residence at Abbotsford. 
 I am told the Great Unknown was absolutely besieged by a 
 legion of " panthers," that you really surrounded him — one tak- 
 ing a point blank elevation of him in full front — another in pro- 
 file — another in rear — happy to sketch a likeness, whichever 
 side presented. 
 
 To you the visit must have been peculiarly interesting and ad- 
 
262 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1824. 
 
 vantageous ; for, knowing your taste and turn of mind, I am sure 
 you would find Scott full of precious matter, and would derive a 
 world of valuable hints from your conversation with him. I long 
 to hear something of your visit at Abbotsford, and would give 
 anything for a good long talk with you on the subject. 
 
 I wish your ' Sancho ' were here in the Exhibition. I should 
 like to hear what the Frenchmen would say to it : it is so infi- 
 nitely better than anything which they think good, that I doubt 
 whether they would know how to appreciate it. There are two 
 of Lawrence's paintings here, but the French pass by without 
 noticing them. The only remark I heard made was from two 
 Frenchmen on Lawrence's head of the late Due de Richelieu. 
 One looked at it, with a screw of the mouth, " Pas mal" said he ; 
 " some affectation, something of colouring," and so they passed on. 
 
 Have you begun your new picture for Lord Egremont? 
 Brockedon speaks with great emphasis of your ' Autolycus.' I 
 do not know whether you have done anything to it since I saw 
 it, or whether he means the picture in its half-finished state. I 
 certainly think your head of ' Autolycus ' one of your happiest 
 efforts of character and expression. But, in fact, you have now 
 but to dash boldly at whatever you conceive ; you have the 
 power of achieving whatever you attempt, and the certainty of 
 having whatever you achieve appreciated by the public. 
 
 When you see Newton remember me affectionately to him. 
 Let me know what he is doing, and how he is doing it. I often 
 look back with fondness and regret on the times we lived together 
 in London, in a delightful community of thought and feeling ; 
 struggling our way onward in the world, but cheering and encour- 
 aging each other. I find nothing to supply the place of that 
 heartfelt fellowship. I trust that you and Newton have a long 
 career of increasing success and popularity before you. Of my 
 own fate I sometimes feel a doubt. I am isolated in English lit- 
 erature, without any of the usual aids and influences by which an 
 author's popularity is maintained and promoted. I have no lit- 
 erary coterie to cry me up ; no partial reviewer to pat me on the 
 back : the very review of my publisher is hostile to everything 
 American. I have nothing to depend on but the justice and- cour- 
 tesy of the public ; and how long the public may continue to 
 
1825.] 
 
 LESLIE'S COKRESPONDENCE. 
 
 263 
 
 favour the writings of a stranger, or how soon it may be preju- 
 diced by the scribblers of the press, is with me a matter of ex- 
 treme uncertainty. I have one proud reflection, however, to sus- 
 tain myself with ; — that I have never in any way sought to sue 
 the praises nor deprecate the censures of reviewers, but have left 
 my works to rise or fall by their own deserts. If the public will 
 keep with me a little longer, until I can secure a bare compe- 
 tency, I feel as if I shall be disposed to throw by the pen, or only 
 to use it as a mere recreation. Do write to me soon. I long to 
 hear from you. How often do I miss you in moments when I 
 feel cast down and out of heart ; and how often at times when 
 some of the odd scenes of life present themselves which we used 
 to enjoy so heartily together. 
 
 Remember me most particularly to your sister. It is with the 
 greatest concern that I have heard of the afflicting loss * which 
 both of you have sustained ; and I only forbear to dwell on it 
 because I know that in cases of the kind all consolation by letter 
 is mere idle formality. God bless you, my dear Leslie. 
 
 Believe me, most constantly and affectionately yours, 
 
 W. I. 
 
 P. S. — My brother is with me, and desires to be particularly 
 remembered to you. 
 
 1825. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Slender, with the assistance of Shallow, courting Anne Page.| 
 
 Shallow — "Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you." — Merrrj Wives of 
 Windsor. Act iii. Scene 4. — (Painted for Sir Willoughby Gordon). Is 
 this the picture engraved for the American Art Union in 1858, from the 
 collection of Mr. Philip Hone? 4 
 (109) Sir Henry Wotton Presenting the Countess Sabrina with a 
 Valuable Jewel on the Eve of his Departure from Vienna. — 
 (Painted for Mr. J. Major's illustrated edition of " Walton's Lives.") 
 
 " As for Sir Henry himself, his behaviour had been such during the 
 manage of the Treaty, that the Emperor (Ferdinand the 2nd) took him to 
 be a person of much honour and merit; and did therefore desire him to 
 accept of that jewel, as a testimony of his good opinion of him, which was 
 
 * The loss of their mother. — Ed. 
 
 f See Introductory Essay. 
 
264 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1826. 
 
 a jewel of diamonds of more value than a thousand pounds. This jewel 
 was received with all outward circumstance and terms of honour by Sir 
 Henry Wotton. But the next morning, on his departing from Vienna, he, 
 at his taking leave of the Countess of Sabrina — an Italian lady in whose 
 house the Emperor had appointed him to be lodged and honourably enter- 
 tained — acknowledged her merits, and besought her to accept of that 
 jewel as a testimony of his gratitude for her civilities." — Walton's Life 
 of Sir Henry Wotton. 
 Six Drawings from the Waverley Novels. — (For the first Author's 
 Edition.) The subjects of these drawings are from — 
 
 Guy Mannering. — Dominie Sampson unpacking the books. Peveril 
 of the Peak. — Peveril turning from the window, perceives Fenella 
 kneeling at his feet. Rob Roy. — The sudden apparition of Diana Vernon, 
 leaning on her father's arm, to Frank Osbaldiston. St. Ronan's Well. — 
 Mr. Winterblossom exhibiting his drawings to Lady Penelope Penfeather. 
 Kenilworth. — Amy Robsart toying with Leicester's jewels and orders. 
 — Wayland Smith in the disguise of a pedlar, showing his wares to Amy 
 Robsart and Janet Forster. 
 
 In the course of this year Leslie married Miss Harriet Stone. 
 His first letter to Irving of next year describes his new happi- 
 ness — a happiness which lasted as long as his life. 
 
 1826. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (60) Don Quixote having retired into the Sierra Morena to do 
 Penance, in Imitation of Amadis de Gaul, is Prevailed on to Re- 
 linquish his Design by a Stratagem of the Curate and the Bar- 
 ber, ASSISTED BY DOROTHEA. 
 
 " I will not arise from hence, thrice valorous and approved knight, until 
 your bounty and courtesie shall grant unto me one boon, which shall much 
 redound to your honour and prize of your person, and to the profit of the 
 most disconsolate and wronged damzel the sun hath ever seen." 
 # " # * * * * * 
 
 " I will not answer you a word, fair lady," quoth Don Quixote, " nor 
 hear a jot of your affair, until you arise from the ground." — "I will not 
 get up hence, my lord," quoth the afflicted lady, " if first of your wonted 
 bounty you do not grant my request." — " I do give and grant it," quoth 
 Don Quixote, " so that it be not a thing that may turn to the damage or 
 hindrance of my king, my country, or of her that keeps the key of my 
 heart and liberty." — "It shall not turn to the damage or hindrance of 
 those you have said, good sir," replied the dolorous damzel; and as she 
 was saying this, Sancho Panza rounded his lord in the ear, saying softly to 
 him, " Sir, you may very well grant the request she asks, for it is a matter 
 
1826.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 265 
 
 of nothing: it is only to kill a monstrous gyant, and she that demands it, is 
 the mighty Princess Micomicona, Queen of the great kingdom of Micomi- 
 con, in Ethiopia." 
 
 ******* 
 " The Barber kneeled all this while, and could with much*ado dissemble 
 his laughter, or keep on his beard, that threatened still to fall off, with 
 whose fall perhaps they should all have remained without bringing their 
 good purpose to pass." — Shelton's Translation of Bon Quixote. Part 4, 
 Chap. 2. 
 
 (Painted for the Earl of Essex.) 
 Queen Katherine and her Maid. — Henry VIII. Act iii. Scene 1. 
 " Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; 
 Sing, and disperse them, if thou canst." 
 (Diploma Picture). The same subject was repeated for Mr. Sheep- 
 shanks, and is now in the National Collection at South Kensington. 
 
 This year Leslie was elected a Member of the Royal Acade- 
 my, and his first child (Robert Charles) was born on the 14th of 
 May. 
 
 St. John's Place, Lisson Grove, 
 
 London, Jan. 12th, 1826. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — Having a wife and picture to attend to 
 might be allowed as excuses for a lazy correspondent among 
 painters and married men — but bachelors and authors may not 
 be so lenient — so have at you. I have heard very good accounts 
 of you from my sisters, and from Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop, and lastly 
 from our friend Foy, who gave me hopes of seeing you before 
 the summer was over, which kept me from writing at that time. 
 But Christmas came and you did not, and now I suppose we must 
 not look for you before the spring. I long to hear from yourself 
 what you have been about, and what you are doing, and when 
 you are really coming. As for myself, I have (as you know) 
 made the greatest change in life that it is in our power to do, and 
 find myself so much the happier, and, I trust, the better for it, 
 that I scarcely seem to have lived before. All the evils of matri- 
 mony that I have heard or read of appear to me to be slanders, 
 and all the blessings to have been underrated ; I am now sure I 
 can wish nothing better to all my single friends than a good wife 
 to each of them. As I write to know what you are doing, it is 
 but fair to tell you what I am about. I have for the last six 
 months been very busy with a picture from ' Don Quixote,' on 
 
266 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1826. 
 
 the .same scale as that of ' the Duchess.' The scene is where the 
 Don has been rusticating in the Sierra Morena, and is drawn 
 away by the stratagem of the curate and barber, assisted by 
 Dorothea, who is kneeling at his feet in the disguise of the Prin- 
 cess Micomicona. Those of my friends who have seen it think it 
 will be my best picture, but I never know well what I am about 
 myself till I have done it. It is for Lord Essex. As soon as it 
 is finished, I am to commence another subject from the Don for 
 the Duke of Bedford. It is Altisidora pretending to faint at the 
 presence of Don Quixote, as he passes along a gallery to attend 
 the Duke and Duchess. I have several other things in embryo 
 which you shall know all about when you come. I have not 
 been out of town since the spring, except for a week in the sum- 
 mer, when I took my wife to Hastings. On my wedding expedi- 
 tion I visited old Warwick, Oxford, and Blenheim for the third 
 time, and went to Birmingham, as I dare say you have heard, to 
 see Mr. and Mrs. Van Wart and your brother. Give my affec- 
 tionate regards to him, and my wife's best respects ; she was 
 delighted with the little she saw of him and with your sister's 
 family. My sisters had a very quick and pleasant passage to 
 America, and I have had several delightful letters from them. 
 Newton is quite well, and engaged on a picture * from the ' Beg- 
 gar's Opera,' — " How happy could I be with either " is the 
 passage. Powell, as you know, disappears annually at Christ- 
 mas among a set of friends that we know nothing of, and has not 
 yet emerged into our circle. If he is not soon heard of, I must 
 offer a reward for him, for he is one of the few that I find it hard 
 to be without. I heard from Father Luke in August last : he 
 was quite well ; I dare say you will see him in the spring. 
 How pleasant an evening you and your brother, Luke, Newton, 
 Powell, and I, might have together. Think well of it ! 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Paris. 
 
 * Now in Lord Lansdowne's gallery at Bowood. — Ed. 
 
1826.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 267 
 
 Bordeaux, Feb. 3, 1826. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I am greatly obliged by your letter, 
 especially as it is so cheerful a one, full of domestic happiness 
 and good news. In return for your kindness, I am about to give 
 you a great deal of trouble, so you must absent yourself from 
 happiness awhile, i. e., from your wife and your painting, and 
 attend to what I request. 
 
 There is a very interesting work printing at Madrid, 4 The 
 Voyage of Columbus,' compiled from his papers by the famous 
 Bishop Las Casas, and in part composed of extracts from Colum- 
 bus's journal. It is in Spanish, and I have undertaken to trans- 
 late it into English, Mr. Everett, our minister at Madrid, having 
 secured it for me. I wish you to make an arrangement with Mur- 
 ray at once for the purchase of the translation, or, if he will not buy 
 it, with Longman or Colburn. I am told it will make about two 
 octavo volumes. Mr. Everett thinks I ought to get 1500 or 1000 
 guineas for it. I shall be content with the last sum. I should 
 have written to Murray on the subject, but I have had such 
 repeated instances of his inattention to letters, and have been 
 put so much back thereby, that I won't trust to correspondence 
 any more, either with him or any other bookseller. As the case 
 admits of no delay, I wish you to see him at once. You had 
 better drop him a line, letting him know you have a literary 
 proposition to make on my part, and requesting him to appoint 
 an hour when you can find him at home. Whichever bookseller 
 you make an arrangement with, get him to announce the work at 
 once as preparing for publication by me. Let me hear from you 
 as soon as possible ; direct to me, " Legation des Mats Vnis 
 d'Amerique, a Madrid? I set off for Madrid in the course of 
 three or four days. My brother accompanies me. Mr. Everett 
 has attached me to the Legation, which will be of service to me 
 in travelling and residing in Spain. I am sorry to inflict such a 
 job upon you, but the case is urgent, and so are my necessities. 
 If I can be of any use to you in Spain in return, either in find- 
 ing you a part of Don Quixote's armour, or the very helmet of 
 Mambrino, command me. When you write to me, the safest way 
 is by the British Ambassador's bag. 
 
268 
 
 EXTEACTS FEOM 
 
 [1826. 
 
 I am delighted with the works which you and Newton have in 
 hand and in prospect. ' Don Quixote ' and ' Gil Bias ' are uni- 
 versal works, known throughout the world, and painting from 
 them is like painting from the Bible, or from ancient and classical 
 history. 
 
 I have been writing a little of late, but have no prospect of 
 publishing anything original for some time to come ; I am not 
 anxious to do so ; but I feel the exercise of the pen extremely 
 beneficial to me ; I was quite out of spirits for want of the usual 
 stimulus. 
 
 When I get to Madrid I will write to you at more length and 
 leisure, — at present I am all in a bustle. 
 
 Tell Newton I received his letter, and will likewise reply to 
 him when I come to anchorage. Give my kind regards to Mrs. 
 Leslie, and believe me, my dear Leslie, ever affectionately yours, 
 
 Washington Irving. 
 
 Lisson Grove, Feb. 23rd, 1826. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — A week elapsed after I received your 
 letter before I could obtain a sight of Murray, although I called 
 on him and left a note requesting him to let me know when I 
 might. He says it is impossible for him to judge of the value of 
 Columbus's Voyage until he sees it. It might be very interesting 
 or it might be very dry ; he therefore cannot make any arrange- 
 ment until it is done, and that you alone can be the only judge at 
 present whether or not it is worth doing. He had told Mr. Rog- 
 ers (whom I saw a day or two since) that you had written to him 
 on the subject, and Rogers said to me he thought it would be 
 more advisable for you not to make any bargain until you had 
 done it; as you would then stand a better chance. In conse- 
 quence of this opinion, I think I had better not apply to any of 
 the other booksellers until I hear from you again ; and the truth 
 is, they are all just now in so great a panic, occasioned by the 
 recent failures here, that it is no time to get them to undertake 
 anything. Murray says he does not know whom to trust among 
 them. He would gladly, he says, receive anything from you of 
 original matter, which he considers certain of success, whatever 
 it might be ; but with regard to 1 The Voyage of Columbus,' he 
 
1826.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 269 
 
 cannot form any opinion at present. Let me know as soon as 
 possible what I am to do farther for you in this business, and it 
 shall be done without a moment's delay. I have thoughts of 
 painting something from the life of Cervantes. Can you give me 
 any information about it that I am not likely to get here. I 
 should like very much to know what is the authority for the por- 
 trait prefixed to the editions of his life. If you could put up for 
 me an impression of the earliest print of him extant it will be 
 very useful to me.* Why should you not translate some of his 
 works ? I believe we have nothing of him in English but 4 Don 
 Quixote ' and his ' Exemplary Novels.' I remember when you 
 were in London some years ago, you read me a scene from an old 
 play, in which the two children who were smothered by Richard 
 III. were introduced saying their prayers. What is the name of 
 the play, and where shall I find it ? I have just been elected an 
 Academician. 
 
 My wife, who is quite well, sends her best respects to yourself 
 and your brother : give my warmest regards to him. 
 
 Yours, ever affectionately, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 P. S. — This is a short letter, but as I hope very soon to hear 
 from you, I shall reserve a great deal I have to say till then. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Madrid. 
 
 EROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 i Madrid, Feb. 23rd, 1826 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I gave you a troublesome commission 
 to execute, in a letter from Bordeaux, relative to ' The Voyage of 
 Columbus.' If you have made any arrangement for me, or if 
 there are any demurs on the subject, in consequence of the size 
 and nature of the work not being particularly specified, you may 
 mention that the work makes two volumes of about 450 pages, 
 each page containing forty-five lines, each line forty-nine letters ; 
 * There is an admirable portrait of him at Petworth. — Ed. 
 
270 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1826. 
 
 from this a bookseller can make his calculations. The narrative 
 of Las Casas, compiled from the papers, journal, &c, of Colum- 
 bus, makes but a part of the first volume. The whole work con- 
 sists of a collection of documents, many of them never before 
 published, among which are private letters of Columbus discov- 
 ered last year, which give the most ample and satisfactory infor- 
 mation relative to the discovery and voyages of Columbus, and 
 set at rest several questions which have hitherto been in dispute, 
 particularly the claim of Americus Vespucius to the discovery of 
 the New World. I shall enrich my translation by some annota- 
 tions and additions from authentic sources, which will make the 
 English publication still more complete than the Spanish. The 
 Spanish work is by Don Martin Fernandez de Navarrete, Secre- 
 tary of the Royal Academy of History, &c, and is published 
 under sanction of the Crown. He has promised me any assist- 
 ance in the prosecution of my undertaking. The London book- 
 sellers will perceive by the account given of the amount of letter- 
 press contained in these volumes that they will make two full 
 quarto volumes, such as they sell for three guineas a volume. It 
 will be a work necessary to any library. You can communicate 
 the purport of the above in a note to any one of the booksellers 
 who has entered into the undertaking, or is found disposed to do 
 so. I can furnish manuscript as soon as required. Murray has 
 had a copy of the manuscript of Las Casas offered to him a year 
 or two since, and may be misled by supposing that to be the 
 whole of the present work, whereas it only forms a part of the 
 first volume. 
 
 So much for business. We arrived here about a week since, 
 after a journey of five days from Bordeaux. I have been ex- 
 ceedingly interested by what I have seen of Sp2tin, although a 
 great part of our route lay through Old and New Castile, the 
 most bleak and arid part of the peninsula, and as joyless a track 
 as I ever travelled. Biscay and Alava, however, had much to 
 interest, both as to the country and the people. Indeed, the 
 Spaniards seem to surpass even the Italians in picturesqueness ; 
 every mother's son of them is a subject for the pencil. It is a 
 continual wish of my brother and myself that we could have you 
 and Newton with us ; you might lay up ample materials for your 
 
1826.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 271 
 
 Spanish pictures. The interiors of the houses, too, are so pecu- 
 liar and picturesque, that you would have your pencil continually 
 at work. 
 
 We are most comfortably situated, having an apartment in the 
 house of the American Consul. We are buried in the very 
 depths of a great rambling Spanish house ; our windows look 
 upon a small garden, three parts of which are surrounded by the 
 house. Our windows open to the floor with iron grates to them, 
 through one of which we have a wicket by which we can enter 
 the garden. We have the stillness of a cloister, with now and 
 then the bell of a neighbouring convent to help the illusion. Our 
 Consul, Mr. Rich, is a great collector and vendor of rare books, 
 and I am surrounded by a curious library entirely at my com- 
 mand. He intends coming to London in the spring to sell a stock 
 of Spanish and other works which he has collected, and I intend 
 to give him letters to you and Newton. He is a most obliging and 
 good-hearted man, and one who may be of great service to you 
 should you want sketches, studies, &c, from this country. He has a 
 valuable collection of sketches, studies, &c, of Murillo, Velasquez, 
 &c, which he intends bringing to England for sale, and which he 
 intends submitting to your and Newton's inspection. Should I be 
 able to pick up anything in your way before he sets off I will 
 send it to you, or if there is anything you wish from here in the 
 way of costumes, &c, &c, let me know; as Mr. Rich will be 
 sending boxes and parcels I can easily forward anything you wish. 
 I shall write to Newton as soon as I feel a little more settled, and 
 get through some introductory visits. Mr. Everett has introduced 
 me to the diplomatic circle, and on Sunday next I am to be pre- 
 sented to the King ; so if you desire anything at the Spanish 
 court, command me. 
 
 With my kind regards to Mrs. Leslie, 
 
 I am, my dear Leslie, yours ever, 
 
 W. L 
 
272 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM 
 
 [1826. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 Madkid, April 21st, 1826. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I take occasion of the departure of Mr. 
 Rich to scribble you a few lines, as much for the purpose of in- 
 troducing him to you as for anything else. He is American 
 Consul at this place, and a most excellent and amiable man. I 
 have been quartered for a couple of months in the same house 
 with him, t and in a manner domesticated with him, and have 
 never been more pleasantly situated. He is a great collector of 
 books, partly as a hobby, but partly, of late years, as a source of 
 profit, having supplied the bibliomaniacs of London with the 
 treasures of old Spanish literature. In this respect you will find 
 him very interesting. He has a number of cases of very rare and 
 curious works with him, and having lately been turning his atten- 
 tion to paintings and engravings, has a few paintings with him as 
 an experiment, and a great number of studies, sketches, and draw- 
 ings of celebrated masters which he has picked up here, among 
 which are many of Murillo's. He has also a valuable stock of 
 engravings. You will find his collection very interesting to 
 examine, and you may be of great service to him in putting him 
 in the way of disposing of his paintings, sketches, &c, to advan- 
 tage, as well as of drawing attention of artists, &c, to them. 
 Should you want anything from Spain in the way of costumes, 
 &c, he would be able to procure and send it to you, for he is one 
 of the most obliging men I ever met with. 
 
 You wished to know something about a likeness of Cervantes. 
 There is no thoroughly ascertained likeness extant. The most 
 probable one, and which accords with the description given by 
 himself of his physiognomy, is that prefixed to his life, edited by 
 Navarrete, and published, together with his works, in Madrid, in 
 1819. Mr. Rich has a copy of it for you, and also a collection of 
 various prints and illustrations of Don Quixote. 
 
 The old play about which you inquire, as containing scenes 
 relative to the young princes in the Tower,* is by Middleton, en- 
 
 * The play is by Heywood, not Middleton, and has been reprinted by the 
 Shakespeare Society. Leslie painted a very touching sketch of the young 
 
1826.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 273 
 
 titled the 1 First and Second Part of Edward IV/ If you wish 
 the scenes for any professional purpose I can transcribe them for 
 you in a letter, as I have them by me, but I do not wish to put 
 any literary forager on the track of this play, as I have an article 
 on the subject half sketched among my papers, which I intend 
 some day or other to make use of. 
 
 I am occupying myself at present in writing the life and voy- 
 ages of Columbus ; I do not wish it to be known, however, but 
 wish it to be supposed I am busied about the translation. In the 
 curious collection of Mr. Rich I find materials collected together 
 which I should otherwise have had to hunt for through public 
 libraries, and I have under my hand the most rare and curious 
 works relative to the discovery of America. The work which I 
 had intended to translate is a voluminous mass of mere documents, 
 which afford excellent materials for a work, but which in their 
 present form would repel the general class of readers. I am in 
 hopes of making a work that will be acceptable to the public. 
 
 I regret continually, now that you and Newton are engaged in 
 painting Spanish subjects, that you could not get a peep at the 
 country and its people. There is a character about them that it 
 is not easy to gather from mere description. The countenance, 
 figure, air, attitude, walk, and dress of a Spaniard all have a 
 peculiar character. The common people are wonderfully pic- 
 turesque in all their attitudes, groups, and costumes. It is a 
 source of continual pleasure to my brother and myself in walk- 
 ing the streets to notice the figures and groups around us, and we 
 are continually regretting that you and Newton are not here to 
 take sketches. 
 
 At the Duke of Bedford's seat (Wobura Abbey) there is a 
 little gallery of Spanish costumes, represented by small figures 
 of clay or porcelain, accurately coloured. They are made in 
 Spain, and are beautiful as specimens of art, while they are 
 accurate as costumes ; perhaps the same may be met with in 
 London. There is such national character, however, in the 
 Spanish dresses even at the present day, that a painter cannot 
 illustrate Spanish stories without attending to the costumes of 
 
 princes at their prayers. It is in the Sheepshanks collection. There is a 
 repetition of it in the collection of Mr. Joseph Gillot, at Birmingham. 
 18 
 
274 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1827. 
 
 his figures ; he would otherwise commit as great blunders as 
 the Flemish painters, who paint Scripture personages in Flemish 
 dresses and armour. 
 
 My brother desires to be cordially remembered to you. Give 
 my kind remembrances to Mrs. Leslie, and believe me, my dear 
 Leslie, 
 
 Ever yours affectionately, W. I. 
 
 P. S. — I must not forget to congratulate you on your election 
 to the Royal Academy. I hope you will rise to the dignity of 
 hangman, and will do your duty by Newton and the rest of your 
 old gang. 
 
 1827. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Lady Jake Grey Prevailed on to Accept the Crown. 
 
 " The Duke of Suffolk, with much solemnity, explained to his daughter 
 the disposition the late king had made of his crown by letters patent; the 
 clear sense the Privy Council had of her right; and the consent of the 
 magistrates and citizens of London; and in conclusion, himself and North- 
 umberland fell on their knees, and paid homage to her as Queen of England. 
 The poor lady, somewhat astonished at their behaviour and discourse, but 
 in no respect moved by their reasons, or in the least elevated by such un- 
 expected honours, answered them, ' That the laws of the kingdom, and 
 natural right standing for the king's sisters, she would beware of burthen- 
 ing her weak conscience with a yoke that did belong to them ; that she 
 understood the infamy of those who had permitted the violation of right 
 to gain a sceptre; that it were to mock God, and deride justice. Besides,' 
 said she, ? I am not so young, nor so little read in the guiles of Fortune as 
 to suffer myself to be taken by them. * * * What she adored but yes- 
 terday, is to-day her pastime. * * My liberty is better than the chain you 
 proffer me, with what precious stones soever it be adorned, or of what gold 
 soever framed. I will not exchange my peace for honourable and precious 
 jealousies, for magnificence and glorious fetters. And if you love me in 
 good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure, a quiet fortune, though 
 mean, than an exalted condition, exposed to the wind, and followed by 
 some dismal fall.' 
 
 " All the moving eloquence of this speech had no effect, and the Lady 
 Jane was at length prevailed on, or rather compelled by the exhortations 
 of her father, the intercessions of her mother, the artful persuasions of 
 Northumberland, and, above all, the earnest desires of her husband whom 
 she tenderly loved, to comply with what was proposed to her." — Life of 
 Lady Jane Grey. (Painted for the Duke of Bedford, and engraved.) 
 (449) Study for a Head of Sancho Panza. — (458) Study for a Head of 
 Don Quixote. 
 
1827.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 275 
 
 Fro^i the correspondence of this year I only extract the fol- 
 lowing from Leslie's old chum, Peter Powell. It is curious, as 
 showing what a revelation Giotto was to the men of this time. 
 It is a great pity that Leslie never did see the great decorative 
 works of Italy in their places. I cannot but think some of his 
 judgments would have been materially modified by the expe- 
 rience. 
 
 Padua, 27th November, 1827. 
 
 Dear Leslie, — I hope you will not think me troublesome, 
 although it be scarcely a twelvemonth since the date of my last 
 letter. I believe, however, I have determined to run all risks, 
 and to indulge my eternal scribbling propensity at your expense 
 as well as my own. Here I am, then, enjoying the luxuries of an 
 Italian climate, with as good a fire as I have the talent to make 
 with sticks (which, I confess, please me not so well as coals) ; the 
 wind blowing in at the half-shut door, which must be left open, or 
 I should soon be all ham, from the curing properties of the chim- 
 ney, which smokes marvellously well ; out of doors the water is 
 all ice, and the opposite mountains are covered with snow. 
 Nevertheless, I am pleased with Italy, and really ought not to 
 crack jokes upon so respectable a climate on the whole, for up to 
 the middle of this month {November) the weather has been de- 
 lightful ; and, at that period even, the day all through has been 
 frequently warmed by an unclouded sunshine. There are no 
 November fogs to be had here for love or money ; to-day the sun 
 is shining charmingly, and the cold has this advantage, that I get 
 an opportunity of seeing the men wrapped up in their magnificent 
 cloaks. Even those that are threadbare are so fine as to the 
 drapery, and are worn in such a style that the beggars here ap- 
 pear to be, what poor Fuseli so eloquently said of Michael An- 
 gelo's, the very patriarchs of poverty. But the dam'd French 
 (God forgive me for swearing, as the old women say) are making 
 rapid strides here, as well as everywhere else, to destroy every- 
 thing that is good in taste, particularly in dress, and to substitute 
 their own contemptible frippery. One is truly surprised how 
 they ever could have carried their fashions into countries where 
 the taste was so infinitely greater than their own ; but unaccount- 
 
276 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1827. 
 
 able as it may be, such is unfortunately the fact ; and every 
 woman above the common class here has thrown aside the grace- 
 ful drapery of her own country — above all the beautiful veil — 
 to figure away in a preposterous French bonnet and quilted pet- 
 ticoats. I suppose you will have heard something of me through 
 John Chalon, who I met with at Geneva, and with whom I 
 afterwards visited the Valley of Chamounix and the celebrated 
 Mont Blanc. I find he is a disappointed candidate, as well as 
 Newton, for academical honours. You have, perhaps, also heard 
 that I fell in with Callcott and his wife at Venice, and have not 
 yet fallen out with them, although they are at present at Milan 
 and / am here. I had been at Venice some time when they arrived, 
 and the first I heard of him was from the English Consul there, 
 who told me that he was very ill ; and accordingly, on going to 
 his hotel, I found him in bed, looking very woe-begone and ter- 
 ribly hipped. It turned out, however, that he was more frightened 
 than hurt, and the doctor pronounced his disorder to be of 
 short duration, though poor Callcott's face was as long as my arm. 
 In two days he was quite well, and we enjoyed about ten days to- 
 gether at Venice very much, as you may suppose. We are both 
 somewhat disappointed in Tintoretto upon the whole, although 
 some of his pictures are very fine ; but certainly Titian had noth- 
 ing to fear from him as a rival, as far as the real excellence of 
 their works went. But I must reserve the canvassing these mat- 
 ters more minutely to the period which I anticipate with great 
 pleasure, that of shaking you by the hand, and, if you will let me, 
 kissing your wife and all the little ones, for I suppose there will 
 be a lot by that time in addition to Michael Angelo Peter Paul 
 Antony Raphaelle Charles Robert, who was in his infancy when 
 I quitted my native land. I expect to see some proof of early 
 genius in sketches in water, made with pap-spoons. I have heard 
 all about the Exhibition, and some of the proceedings of that 
 notorious body to which you now have the honour to belong, and 
 for which you officiated last year in the capacity of sheriff or 
 hangman ; but, like other hangmen, you must not expect to 
 please all you hang. However, you have won poor Collins's 
 generous heart for ever, I understand. Mrs. Callcott, who I had 
 never before seen more than once, I like vastly, and she is cer- 
 
1827.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 277 
 
 tainly a most extraordinary woman in point of information and 
 talent ; notwithstanding which we are become excellent friends ! ! ! 
 The Callcotts and I left Venice, and visited Padua, Mantua, and 
 Verona together ; after which they went to Milan, which I had 
 seen, and they had not, and we expect to join again either at Bo- 
 logna or Florence. This unexpected rencountre at Venice has, I 
 believe, been very agreeable to all of us. Young Lewis (the animal 
 painter) fell in with us while at Venice. Indeed, if he had not 
 recognised us we should never have known him, on account of a 
 huge pair of mustachios which had come to maturity during his 
 tour in Germany, where he learnt to smoke much and shave 
 little. We left him at Venice in company with a Mr. Hoskins, 
 an artist, who has been studying for the last two or three years at 
 Rome. I have been delighted beyond measure with some of the 
 fresco paintings of the very early masters. There is a beautiful 
 chapel in this city entirely painted by the most celebrated of those 
 great men, namely, Giotto, the contemplation of which has made 
 an entire revolution in my ideas respecting what is termed High 
 Art. I have been making some imperfect sketches from them, 
 for I do not draw the figure well enough to do justice to them, or 
 to what I feel of them. I hope that I may like Raphaelle's 
 works at Rome as well, and I shall be quite satisfied. Raphaelle 
 evidently studied and formed his own art upon the works of this 
 extraordinary man, who lived about sixty years before the other. 
 The frescoes I speak of are most of them in fine preservation, 
 although more than five hundred years old. This splendid chapel 
 had been condemned to be dilapidated, with many others in Italy, 
 but it being represented to Napoleon that it contained Giotto's 
 frescoes, he ordered it to be preserved. My dear fellow, you 
 ought to visit Italy, if it were only to see this chapel, for I know 
 no one with whose feelings and taste it would be so congenial, 
 unless it were Stotharcl. I have got to the end of my tether, 
 without doing justice to many of our mutual friends, who I ought 
 to mention, but to whom (particularly Newton, the Condeys, and 
 Constable) you will remember me kindly. If you will muster up 
 resolution a second time to write to me immediately, a letter ad- 
 dressed Poste restante, Florence, will reach before I leave ; and 
 I need not, I hope, acid that it will give very great pleasure to 
 
278 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1828. 
 
 one who is with every sincere wish for the happiness of you and 
 yours, Ever, your affectionate friend, 
 
 P. Powell. 
 
 P. S. — Newton owes ine a letter ; tell him I want to be paid. 
 1828. 
 
 Tlie Pictures of this Year were not exhibited. They are The Bride. (Engraved 
 by Finden.) — A Portrait of Miss Stephens standing at a Harp- 
 sichord. (Painted for the Earl of Essex, and engraved.) A Lady in a 
 Dutch Dress, with a Screen in her Hand. — (Engraved by Finden.) 
 
 On the 1st of February in this year was born the painter's sec- 
 ond child, Harriet Jane. 
 
 Madrid, Feb. 16, 1828. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — Your application for the sketch illustra- 
 tive of your picture has been made at a most unfortunate time, 
 for my mind is quite diverted from subjects of the kind, and is at 
 this moment so hurried and occupied with a thousand things, 
 prior to my leaving Madrid on a tour to the South, that I cannot 
 for the life of me devise anything to the purpose.* Sketches of 
 the kind that are to stand by themselves, and take care of them- 
 selves, in those collections of jeux d'esprit, require some lucky 
 thought, or something striking either in conception or execution, 
 and at this moment I can command neither. If I can think of 
 anything in time, I will send it to you, as I presume the work for 
 next Christmas will not be immediately put to press. 
 
 Columbus I understand is printed, but the publication deferred 
 for some weeks. Why, I know not. I can get no letters from 
 " the Murray ; " and " the Newton " to whom I wrote to collect 
 me information, wrote me a reply without imparting any. I pre- 
 sume when he scribbled his letter, he was on the point of a scam- 
 per, either to the east or the west. 
 
 I am glad to hear you have taken in hand your sketch of ' Sir 
 
 * Leslie had asked Irving to write something for one of the Annuals to accom- 
 pany one of his pictures. — Ed. 
 
1828.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 279 
 
 Roger and the Gipsies.' I think you will make a charming pic- 
 ture of it. Wilkie is passing the winter here, and we are daily- 
 together, as you and I used to be in old times in London. He 
 has just finished a picture with which I am greatly pleased. I 
 think in some respects he has benefited greatly by his visit to 
 Italy. This painting is in a different style from any of his others, 
 painted with less minute detail, but with great richness, force, and 
 freedom. He looks back upon the minute labour of accessories 
 and details in his earlier pictures as an error, which he should 
 avoid had he to commence his career again. The present picture, 
 however, is meant more as a sketch than a finished painting. It 
 is admirably characteristic of Spain and its inhabitants. 
 
 We were greatly amused to hear of the classic expedition of 
 Peter Powell to Italy. Wilkie supposes Peter means to con- 
 clude his various entertainments of oratorios, melodramas, &c, by 
 a grand representation of the 6 Last Judgment ' of Michael Angelo. 
 
 I am glad to learn that matrimony sits so lightly and happily 
 upon you. It is a great lottery, but there are invaluable prizes in 
 it ; and you appear to have been at the lucky lottery office. Give 
 my kindest regards to Mrs. Leslie, to whom I am much obliged for 
 making you so good a wife, and as your boy advances in under- 
 standing, prepare him to look up to me with great respect and 
 veneration when we meet. 
 
 I set off for the south of Spain in the course of eight or ten 
 days. I am in hopes my brother Peter will be able to accompa- 
 ny me, though his health has been so delicate for some weeks 
 past, in consequence of an attack of headaches, that he sometimes 
 seems to doubt his being competent to the journey. I have lately 
 been joined by a nephew from America, Theodoric Irving, a fine 
 handsome youngster of between eighteen and nineteen, who, I be- 
 lieve, I shall take on the tour with me. 
 
 Yours ever, my dear Leslie, 
 
 W. Irving. 
 
 London, March 19$, 1828. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — I have lately received your answer to 
 my request in behalf of Alaric Watts, and I beg you will not 
 give yourself any trouble about the little sketch. If anything 
 
280 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [IP 9. 
 
 should occur to you which you can throw off with ease, so much 
 the better ; if not, never mind. If we get nothing from you by 
 the end of June, Watts, will ask somebody else to do it. 
 
 Murray sent me your ' Life of Columbus ' as soon as it was 
 published, and I could scarcely lay it down till I had got through 
 it. I am so much out of the world that I have seen no one else 
 who has read it ; and therefore I don't know what is thought of it, 
 but I shall be much surprised if it does not place you in the first 
 rank of biographical and historical writers. To me it had all the 
 fascination of a novel, with the additional interest of real history. 
 My wife was so charmed with the beautiful character you have 
 drawn of Isabella, that she wishes to call our little daughter (who 
 is not yet christened) after her. I am now reading Robertson's 
 ' Charles V.,' and I find by the character he gives of the faithless 
 Ferdinand that you are fully justified in your censures of his con- 
 duct to Columbus. I have not been able to finish my picture of 
 ' Sir Roger and the Gipsies ' to my mind, and shall not exhibit it 
 this year. Newton's picture I have not seen for some time, but I 
 intend calling on him to-day, to leave this letter for him to for- 
 ward by Mr. Rich, who I hear is in town. 
 
 I am writing in a great hurry, and when more at leisure shall 
 give you a longer sheet. You say I am to teach my boy to look 
 up to you with great respect when you come here. Pray when 
 will that be ? I am not without hopes you will be induced to ac- 
 company Wilkie, who, I understand, returns this spring. Harriet 
 sends her best respects and good wishes to yourself and brother ; 
 to which add the affectionate regards of 
 
 Yours, dear Irving, ever, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 Madrid. 
 
 1829. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (134) Sir Roger de Coverley and the Gipsies. 
 
 " She told him that he was a bachelor, but would not be so long ; and 
 that he was dearer to somebody than he thought. The knight still re- 
 
1829.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 281 
 
 peated that she was an idle baggage, but bid her go on." — Spectator, 
 No. 180. 
 
 The Duke and Duchess Reading Don Quixote. (Engraved. Now in the 
 possession of Joseph Gillott, Esq., Birmingham.) — Portraits of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Dillwyn and their Family. — Portraits of Lord Hol- 
 land, Miss Fox, and Lady Affleck (Lady Holland's mother.) 
 
 / 
 
 Washington Irving was in London this year as Secretary of 
 the American Legation. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 Sept. 11th, 1829. 
 
 My Dear Betsey, — * * * We returned about three weeks 
 since from Mr. Dillwyn's, where I painted a small picture 
 of his whole family, so that to me the excursion was no holiday. 
 To Harriet it was, and she and the children enjoyed the beautiful 
 rambles about the house very much. We were there six weeks ; 
 Mrs. Dillwyn had very kindly allotted to the children a large 
 play room to themselves besides their bed-room. Little Robert's 
 greatest delight was walking with me to the farm (which was 
 about half a mile from the house) every morning before break- 
 fast, to see the cows, pigs, geese, ducks, and above all a litter of 
 puppies. On our journey from London we went through Bath 
 and Bristol, and crossed the Severn to Chepstow, which was new 
 to me. We had but one day to stay there, which, unfortunately, 
 was a rainy one. We, however, made an excursion in a post- 
 chaise to Tintern Abbey, which is about five miles from Chep- 
 stow, and were amply repaid by the sight of the most magnificent 
 ruin we had ever beheld. The showers obscured the beautiful 
 scenery by which it was surrounded, but the Abbey itself we were 
 able to enjoy at intervals. On our return to London we chose an 
 entirely different route, and as Harriet's situation did not admit of 
 very rapid travelling, we were four days on the road. The first 
 night we slept at Cardiff, and the next morning visited the Castle, 
 the most modern part of which is occasionally inhabited by Lord 
 Bute, to whom it belongs. The ruins of the old keep still remain, 
 and part of the old wall, which is, I suppose, as old as the time of 
 William the Conqueror, as it was there that his son, Robert Duke 
 
282 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1829. 
 
 of Normandy, was confined by his brother, William Rufus. In 
 the modern apartments there are some curious old family pictures, 
 but nothing else very interesting. The next night we slept at 
 Gloucester, and, from our inn windows, had a fine view of its 
 beautiful cathedral by moonlight. In the morning we had time 
 to see the interior of it, and were there during a part of the ser- 
 vice, at the commencement of which our little baby was ordered 
 out by the Dean for talking, which she only meant as an imita- 
 tion of the clergyman who was reading. She was, however, al- 
 lowed to stand by the outer door, where she heard the organ and 
 the chanting of the choristers with great delight. Robert behaved 
 with the most perfect decorum, and was inexpressibly delighted 
 with the music and the very splendid interior of the church. The 
 east window is said to be the finest in England. It is immensely 
 large, and of the richest style of old stained glass. From Glou- 
 cester we proceeded through Cheltenham to Oxford, and had time 
 on the following morning before the coach started, to look into 
 New College Chapel, which contains the beautiful window de- 
 signed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and which is more than ever val- 
 uable, as the original paintings he made for it were burnt a few 
 years ago in a fire that happened at Belvoir Castle. We also 
 walked round the delightful garden belonging to this college, and 
 then took leave, with much regret, of this most delicious of all the 
 towns I ever saw. We got safe home about four o'clock, after a 
 journey of two hundred and twenty miles, of rather an anxious 
 nature to me as you may suppose, with two young children and a 
 wife within a few weeks of her confinement. The children bore 
 it extremely well, and were exceedingly good, and I am happy to 
 say Harriet has not suffered in the least from it. We found the 
 difference between the posting and the stage coach expense so 
 so trifling, that we used the former mode as far as Oxford. 
 I rode all that way on the dickey of the chaise, and often 
 had one of the children with me, who was handed in and out 
 through the front window. Little Robert and the baby have 
 been playing at post-chaises and postillions ever since. * She 
 
 * Leslie painted a picture of children playing, for Sir Robert Wigram, in 
 1847, perhaps from a sketch done from his own little ones at this time. The 
 picture was repeated, and the repetition is now in the gallery of Thomas Miller 
 Esq., Preston. 
 
1829.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 233 
 
 walked very well before we left London, and now talks all day 
 long, and remarkably plain for her age. Since my return I have 
 begun a very large picture from the ' Merry Wives of Windsor,' 
 containing Falstaff and most of the characters, to the number of 
 fifteen ; but more of this when I write again. Harriet sends her 
 love to you, and all, and believe me, 
 
 Yours, as ever, 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 On Oct. 19th, Leslie's third child, Caroline Anna, was born. 
 
 Miss Leslie had some time before this made her first essay as 
 an authoress, and had entrusted her bantling to her brother's care. 
 The following letter will show how tenderly and judiciously he 
 performed his task. 
 
 London, Nov. 12th, 1829. 
 
 Dear Eliza, — I should have written sooner to inform you 
 of the birth of another daughter, but I wished also to be able to 
 give you some account of a child of your own, of whose welfare, 
 I am sorry to say, I have been too negligent since you committed 
 it to my care. I can now, however, tell you a little of both of 
 them. Harriet was confined on the 19 th of last month (my 
 birthday) with a fine little girl, and both she and it have gone on 
 extremely well. And now for your baby, who has been a long 
 time at nurse at Mr. Ebers's, with little advantage, I fear, to its 
 worldly prospects. After calling several times in vain, I wrote to 
 him and so got it away, but with no answer. I carried it to-day 
 to Mrs. Hofland, to ask her opinion and advice about it. She 
 bears the character of a very amiable woman, and one always 
 ready to the utmost of her power to serve other authors. I had 
 a long conversation with her, and I believe from what she says, 
 there is little more to be obtained for children's books here than 
 in America. She tells me there are many ladies of fortune who, 
 being fond of seeing themselves in print, write books of that 
 class and give them away to the publishers, and as their produc- 
 tions sell well, this is of course to the disadvantage of authors 
 who cannot afford to write for nothing. Mrs. Hofland got but 
 ten pounds for her ' Son of a Genius,' the sale of which has pro- 
 
284 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1829. 
 
 duced a small fortune to the publishers. She thinks you would 
 obtain more by writing for the annuals, and if you have anything 
 unpublished that you can send me a written copy of before it is 
 printed in America — either tales for children or grown people 
 — I will use all the interest I have with the publisher to get 
 you a good price for them ; or, if you will attempt a novel and 
 trust me with it, I will do what I can, and promptly, too, as I am 
 most anxious to retrieve, in some degree, the ground I have lost 
 with you. In one of your letters you wish me to inquire what 
 the booksellers will give for an American novel. You cannot 
 expect such a question to be answered until they see, or have 
 some means of knowing, what the merits of the novel are. I 
 feel quite safe in assuring you that if you will write a good one, I 
 can get you a good price for it. 
 
 I am glad you agree with me in distaste for the didactic class of 
 works of the kind. I used to like them, but now that I have grown 
 older and know more of the world, it seems to me to be a great 
 mistake of their well-meaning authors to attempt to deceive man- 
 kind into virtue, which I have no doubt, if it has any effect, is 
 only calculated to deceive them into hypocrisy. Truth never did, 
 and never can do harm ; and I feel quite sure that the really 
 moral writers are those who describe characters as they are, and 
 not as the authors think they ought to be, or ought not to be. I 
 have lately spent a good deal of time at Lord Holland's, painting 
 portraits of himself, Miss Fox and Lady Affleck (Lady Hol- 
 land's mother). The present Lord Holland is one of the most 
 accomplished and amiable men I ever met with. He is much 
 better acquainted with and more interested in American affairs 
 than any Englishman I have seen who has not been in America. 
 Lady Affleck, who is eighty years of age, was born in New York, 
 and lived there until after her first marriage. The old lady is a 
 staunch American, and talked to me of nothing but America 
 while she was sitting. Lady Holland begged I would introduce 
 a map of New York somewhere in the background of her mother's 
 portrait, which I have done. Lord Holland has dinner parties 
 every day, and they generally consist of the most intelligent people 
 he can collect. Rogers is a very frequent visitor there, and Moore 
 and Sir Walter Scott, whenever they are in London. Lord 
 
1829.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 285 
 
 Byron used to be much there, and Monk Lewis, whose portrait 
 hangs in one of the rooms. I dined a short time since with 
 Murray, the publisher, and met Moore, who in the evening sang 
 several of his own songs in so delightful a manner, that I never 
 shall wish to hear the same songs again from any one else. 
 Washington Irving was there, and James Smith, one of the 
 authors of the ' Rejected Addresses.' Smith sang several excel- 
 lent comic songs of his own. Irving is in excellent health, and 
 looks almost as young and quite as handsome as ever he did. 
 He is much pleased with Mr. McLane (the Ambassador), and 
 seems to like his own situation of Secretary of Legation very 
 well. I am glad of his having it, as the means of bringing him 
 here ; but I am afraid it will prevent his writing for some time. 
 
 I will very soon write to Polly ; in the meantime Harriet joins 
 me in love to you all. C. R. L. 
 
 P. S. — I have sent to Longman's some prints of Lady Jane 
 Grey prevailed on to accept the Crown, which I hope will arrive 
 safely. 
 
 The following pleasant letter from Peter Powell at Rome, con- 
 tains a good deal of Art-gossip about the principal members of 
 their old set, and some other painters, as well as some opinions on 
 the subject of Peel's new Police at home and i paternal despot- 
 ism ' abroad, which it is amusing to read by the light of facts of 
 1860. 
 
 No 68, Via Sistina, Rome, 
 30th Nov. 1829. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — You think, no doubt, that I shall not 
 leave this Eternal City to all eternity ; and I sometimes myself 
 think that there is a spell upon me to prevent my getting back 
 again to old England, as we English nickname it, seeing that in 
 fact it is one of the most modern countries (if we date from its 
 civilisation) in Europe ; and, moreover, the little that it had to 
 boast of as derived from our good old forefathers seems to be 
 rapidly going away, and it may perhaps as well be called new 
 England, or at least, new London, by the time I get to it again. 
 
286 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1829. 
 
 From what I read occasionally in the newspapers, all the Dog- 
 berry s, venerable and somniferous in Shakespeare's time and 
 unchanged up to ours, are now I see to be sent home to sleep in 
 their own beds, instead of parish watch-boxes ; and in their room, 
 I read, there is to be established an active and virtuous police, 
 who are to put an end to crimes altogether by punishing people 
 before they have committed any. 
 
 I think Mr. Peel will have his hands full, as well as the prisons 
 before long, and I wish him joy of his undertaking. I have quite 
 changed my politics since I left home, and should have done the 
 same with my religion if I had had any. I am living here under 
 the most absolute despotism in Europe, and I see the people who 
 are politically slaves, happier, and more free in fact, than the 
 people in England with all their noise and newspapers and cant 
 about liberty. An English newspaper verily makes me sick. I 
 have been now two years in Rome, and there has been but one 
 man executed in that time, and that for murder. And I have 
 been to all the theatres, and to all the public spectacles in the 
 churches and streets, where all the nobility of Rome are collected, 
 without any fear of being either insulted or robbed — not even 
 excepting the Theatre of Puppets or Fantoccini here, which is a 
 most diverting and witty entertainment, and where the admission 
 to the pit is only twopence. 
 
 The bread is always excellent, and is a penny a pound. I can 
 dine at the first Trattorias in Rome, including wine, for three 
 pauls or fifteen pence;* and I have a studio twenty-one feet 
 square and sixteen feet high, with a bed-room furnished, in one 
 of the best parts of Rome, for eight dollars a month. 
 
 Here are eight months out of the twelve perpetual sunshine, 
 and an earthquake every now and then gratis ; a thing that is not 
 to be had in England for love or money. 
 
 Then I have said nothing about the beauties of the landscapes, 
 the magnificence of the buildings, the splendid ruins of antiquity 
 and works of art of all ages to be met with in Italy, the beauty 
 of the people, and the picturesque costume of the different coun- 
 tries. In short, it is altogether a delicious country, and if it were 
 
 * Yet Rome is now cited as the dearest of continental capitals, except 
 Paris. — Ed. 
 
1829.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 287 
 
 not for a good old mother, two or three brothers and sisters, and 
 three or four dear good fellows like yourself, for whom I have an 
 unaccountable prejudice, I believe I should never take the trouble 
 to visit old England again. 
 
 These will, however, draw me from this happy region in the 
 ensuing spring ; and, making allowance for seeing a part of Ger- 
 many in my route, I hope to shake you by the hand, with all my 
 heart in it, about the end of June. 
 
 I thank you very heartily for your last kind letter, which lay, 
 however, a considerable time at Naples while I was gone to Sicily. 
 Your sister's epistle was also very gratifying to me, as giving me 
 good accounts of our good friends on the other side of the Atlantic, 
 where I should like to take a peep at them, and perhaps may do 
 some future clay. It is but a month's sail in the right season. 
 What say you to a trip together ? Newton, too, should join us. 
 
 I see by the papers that Washington Irving is arrived in Lon- 
 don, and also in an official capacity as Secretary to the Embassy. 
 Remember me kindly to him. 
 
 I want to read his history of Columbus, as well as to see your 
 and Newton's pictures, which have been painted since my absence. 
 I hope Newton has found some other equally qualified and candid 
 friend to look after his perspective ! I 
 
 I was amazingly gratified to hear of Constable's election, and 
 now I look forward to Newton's being made a full R. A. 
 
 Eastlake is just finishing a very beautiful picture, which will be 
 sent to grace the next Exhibition. 
 
 Allan from Edinburgh, I hear, is in Italy, but has not yet 
 reached Rome. We are all sorry that Turner has not been able 
 to come out this year as he intended. He made himself very 
 social, and seemed to enjoy himself, too, amongst us. 
 
 And now it is time to say a few words about the good lady 
 and family at home, all of whom I hope are well. 
 
 You gratify me very much by assuring me in your letter that 
 on my return I shall receive the same kind welcome from you 
 both, that I was accustomed to meet with before I became such 
 an absentee ; and the same assurance I please myself with in 
 regard to our valued friends the Dunlops. 
 
 Since writing the foregoing, Mr. Allan is arrived here, and 
 
288 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1830. 
 
 tells me that he saw Newton at Paris, and that he did not seem 
 to be in very good health ; I hope, however, that his trip did him 
 good, and that he returned home in good health at any rate. 
 
 I have seen the Annual, with your Duke and Duchess reading 
 Don Quixote, which I like very much, though I have no doubt 
 all the good works suffer a great deal by being done in such a 
 pigmy size. 
 
 I think these Annuals, though they pay the artist well, perhaps, 
 will tend to deteriorate the art, and spoil all the engravers for 
 larger and better things : indeed the chances are that they will all 
 become prematurely blind. 
 
 So Newton says he will not write to me because it is clear I do 
 not care for my old friends in London, or I should not stay so 
 long away from them ; nevertheless, as I said before, but for my 
 old friends, I do not think I should return to England again. 
 There are plenty of artists here, and several with whom I am 
 intimate enough, but there are none that I revel with so much in 
 talking of art, as with you and Newton. 
 
 I wish I could contribute my share of performance as well as 
 talk, and then we should be an invisible trio. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Benedict. Kind regards to all friends, 
 
 From yours ever, 
 
 P. Powell. 
 
 P. S. — Tell Newton that I hope he will have the magnanimity 
 to forego his resolve, and to write to me notwithstanding my de- 
 merits, which I am ready to confess do not entitle me to a letter 
 from any of you. 
 
 1830. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Portrait op Dr. Sims. (Engraved — Private Print.) — Portraits of Mr. 
 and Mrs. King and Lady Burrell. (Painted for Lord Egremont.) 
 
 Leslie was at work in the course of this year upon the ' Din- 
 ner at Page's House,' exhibited the next year, and a repetition of 
 
1830.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 289 
 
 which is now in the Sheepshanks' collection. He had begun the 
 picture in the autumn of 1829. He was also employed on 
 'Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman.' 
 
 The painter's second sister, Anne, who had spent some time 
 with him in this country before his marriage, was now again with 
 him in England. His elder sister had taken up the craft of 
 authorship, and her brother was unwearied in his efforts to find a 
 market for her earliest attempts, as will be seen from the follow- 
 ing letter. I may add, that Miss Leslie subsequently had consid- 
 erable success as a writer of tales and verses, as editress of 
 American annuals, and last, not least, as authoress of a cookery 
 book, dealing especially with the dressing of Indian-corn meal, 
 and found, I believe, very useful during the Irish famine. 
 
 London, May 20th, 1830. 
 Dear Eliza, — You have heard from Anne how little we 
 have been able to do with your manuscripts. On their arrival, 
 I lost no time in offering the tale of ' Alphonsine ' to Murray, 
 proposing to make a design for a plate for it gratuitously, think- 
 ing it might be an additional inducement for him to take it, as he 
 had not long since applied to me to illustrate a work I was then 
 unable to do in consequence of other engagements. He sent me 
 a very civil note, declining it on the score of its being a transla- 
 tion. The other stories I knew were too juvenile for him. I 
 then offered * Alphonsine ' to two of the annuals, the ' Gem ' and 
 the ' Amulet,' with the same proposal of making a gratuitous 
 design. The first declined it on account of its length, and the 
 other as being a translation. After that, I offered both it and the 
 tales to Harris (of St. Paul's Churchyard), and to Hurst and 
 Chance, still proposing to make designs for them for nothing, but 
 with no better success. Hurst and Chance indeed offered to print 
 them at your expense, and divide the profits by quarterly settle- 
 ments. Anne has since attempted to do something with them, of 
 which she has of course informed you, and I hope the arrange- 
 ments she is making with Mrs. Hall may turn out to your satis- 
 faction. I like all your tales very much ; still I confess I should 
 like them better if they had not so much of the didactic cant 
 that is the fashion now. I am of opinion that the most instruc- 
 
 19 
 
290 
 
 EXTKACTS FROM 
 
 [1830. 
 
 tive of all writings are those that lay open to our view human 
 nature as it really is. But this is too hard a task for the writers 
 of children's books, who find it much easier to sit down and make 
 a nature of their own, in which little monsters of virtue, sense, 
 and fine sentiments, are contrasted with caricatures of folly. I 
 think your characters are more drawn from nature than the gen- 
 erality of them are, but still I think you would be more really 
 instructive if it was not for your determination to instruct. Why 
 might not children's books be written with as much discrimination 
 of real character, as the novels of Le Sage, Fielding, Smollett, 
 and the best of Sir Walter Scott ? I anticipate your answer ; 
 they would not sell. Then suppose you try a short novel, and 
 take the best models, and nature, for your guide. Do not think 
 of making your characters consistently bad, or consistently good, 
 but draw men and women as they really appear to you. Do not 
 let all the events of a man's or a woman's life turn on one point 
 of their character, as Miss Edgeworth does, for the sake of sup- 
 porting a theory, but divest yourself of every other intention 
 than that of giving true pictures of nature. I would read none 
 of the trash that is now published in the rage for universal im- 
 provement, but study, over and over again, the sterling authors of 
 fiction, whose works will last as long as their language, because 
 they are built on the rock — nature. 
 
 I find in painting it is necessary to shut my eyes to most that is 
 doing now, and to look only at nature and the best of the old mas- 
 ters. The most original landscape painter I know * says, that 
 when he sits down in the fields to make a sketch, he endeavours 
 to forget that he has ever seen a picture. And I should think an 
 author would do well when he sits down to write a book, to for- 
 get, if possible, that he had ever read one. If Scott could have 
 done so, how much that is bad in his writings would have been 
 spared the world ! I have left but little room for news. The 
 truth is, I have little to tell. We are all well. 
 
 I was unable to complete my picture of FalstafF for the Exhi- 
 bition, but it is now within a few days of being finished. I shall 
 soon begin another I hope, of equal size, for Lord Grosvenor ; 
 but the subject is not determined upon. In one of your letters 
 * Constable. — Ed. 
 
1831.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 291 
 
 you say Sully wishes to know whether the fancy dresses I paint 
 are really worn by the ladies. No, I make them up from old 
 prints and -pictures, and change and alter the forms till I think 
 they look well. This, however, is against my own theory of copy- 
 ing nature, and I think it a bad plan. In future I shall paint the 
 dresses ladies wear, for I am sure nothing can be more splendid. 
 Unbounded extravagance seems the order of the day here with 
 the ladies, and Anne says it is the same now in America. 
 
 London, July 2nd, 1830. 
 
 Your story of the ' Travelling Tinman ' is printed, and the 
 proof sheets have been sent to me to correct. I have also made 
 a design from it, which is now, I suppose, in the engraver's hands. 
 I chose the subject you suggested, of the two girls discovering the 
 black child in the cart. 
 
 Anne, I have no doubt, has given Patty all the news of the 
 family, which is not much. We are all well, and going on as 
 usual. 
 
 I have finished my picture of * Falstaff ' and sent it home, and 
 as soon as I have completed the one* I have in hand from 
 ' Tristram Shandy,' I hope to set about another large picture. 
 
 1831. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 The Dinner at Mrs. Page's House, Supposed to Take Place in the 
 
 First Act of ' The Merry Wives of Windsor.' 
 A Scene fuom Tristram Shandy. (Uncle Toby and the Widow 
 
 Wadman.) 
 
 "' I protest, Madam,' said my Uncle Toby, 'I can see nothing whatever 
 in your eye' 'It is not in the white,' said Mrs. Wadman. My uncle 
 looked with might and main into the pupil." (Painted for John Sheep- 
 shanks, Esq.; afterwards repeated for Mr. Vernon, afterwards for Mr. 
 Jacob Bell. All three are now in the National Collection at South Ken- 
 sington. ) 
 
 A Scene from 'The Taming of the Shrew.' (Painted for the Earl of 
 Egremont, and engraved: afterwards repeated for John Sheepshanks, Esq., 
 and now in the National Collection. Another small repetition was painted 
 for Joseph Birt, Esq.) 
 
 * Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman. 
 
292 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1831. 
 
 Petruchio. — " Brav'd in mine own house with a skein of thread ! 
 
 Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant; 
 Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard, 
 As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st ! 
 I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown." 
 Tailor. — " Your worship is deceived ; the gown is made 
 Just as my master had direction : 
 Grumio gave order how it should be made." 
 Grumio. — "I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff." 
 
 Act iv. Scene 3. 
 
 On the 18th of August was born Leslie's second son, Brad- 
 ford, named after his early friend and first master, Mr. Bradford 
 of Philadelphia. Bradford showed a bent for civil engineering ; 
 became a pupil of Mr. Brunei ; and is now employed on railway 
 work in the East Indies. 
 
 I have no correspondence for this year but the following letter 
 from Irving, containing some excellent suggestions for the well- 
 known picture from the ' Taming of the Shrew,' exhibited this year. 
 
 FROM WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 London, Feb. 23, 1831. 
 As I understand you intend to finish your picture of Petruchio 
 while at Petworth, I will give you a hint or two, which I had in- 
 tended to give on your return to town. I think the picture one 
 of the best hits of the kind that you have ever made ; it is worth 
 while, therefore, in my opinion, to make it a complete one. The 
 figures of Grumio and the Haberdasher are deficient in character, 
 and make that part of the picture weak as to expression, and yet 
 they may easily be made to tell admirably on the story, and to 
 heighten the comic character of the whole. The Haberdasher 
 might be represented making a cautious attempt to get hold of the 
 cap, with his eye glancing up at Petruchio, as if confoundly afraid 
 of getting a sudden thwack on the poll. This would also tell 
 upon the character of Petruchio, showing how his domineering 
 spirit prevailed over the whole dramatis personse. I would make 
 Grumio of a spare form, with a roguish air. His contest with 
 the tailor should have a more whimsical expression. The tailor 
 
1833.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 293 
 
 himself, though admirably painted, has not, in my opinion, enough 
 of the comic. I find it difficult, however, to convey my notions 
 on paper — especially in the hurry in which I am at present. 
 If I could have ten minutes' chat with you, I think I could 
 act the expression I have in my mind. These hints, however 
 will serve to set you thinking. I want to see this picture a 
 deservedly strong one in all its parts ; you will then take the 
 field this spring in uncommon force. 
 
 1833. 
 
 Pictures Exhibited this Year. 
 
 Tristram Shandy Recovering the Manuscript he had Lost. (En- 
 graved by Watt: in the possession of Thomas Miller, Esq. Preston; after- 
 wards repeated for John Gibbons, Esq.) 
 
 "I had not waited half an hour when the mistress came in to take the 
 papillotes from off her hair, before going to the Maypoles. * * * The 
 toilet stands still for no man, so she jerked off her cap to begin with them 
 as she opened the door, in doing which, one of them fell to the ground. I 
 instantly saw it was my own writing. 4 Seigneur! ' cried I, 'you have 
 got all my remarks on your head, madam Tenez,' said 
 
 she. So without any idea of the nature of my suffering, she took them 
 from her curls, and put them gravely, one by one, into my hat," &c. 
 
 Vol. vii. Chap. 38. 
 
 Mother Dancing to her Child. 
 
 Martha and Mary. (Painted for James Dunlop, Esq.: three times repeated.) 
 " A certain woman, named Martha, received him into her house. And 
 she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his 
 word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, 
 and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve 
 alone? Bid her, therefore, that she help me. And Jesus answered and 
 said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many 
 things: but one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part 
 which shall not be taken away from her." — St. Luke, chap. x. ver. 38-42. 
 
 On the 18th of July was born the painter's third daughter and 
 fifth child — Mary. This lady possesses very remarkable artistic 
 powers. Unhappily weak eyesight has prevented her from de- 
 voting herself to the serious pursuit of painting as a profession, 
 but her copies, sketches, and occasional original compositions 
 show a rare reach of invention and the very highest qualities 
 both as a colourist and a designer. In September Leslie, to the 
 
294 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1833. 
 
 great regret of his many English friends, left England for the 
 United States with a view of entering upon the duties of teacher 
 of drawing at the United States Military School of West Point. 
 He has fully detailed in his Autobiography the expectations with 
 which he took this step, his disappointment, and speedy return to 
 England. Irving was among the friends who, though he for- 
 mally disclaims any direct recommendation, in effect recom- 
 mended the step in the following letter. 
 
 Washington, Jan. 29th, 1833. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — Your brother has applied to me through 
 a friend to use my influence in persuading you to accept the ap- 
 pointment to the professorship of drawing at West Point. I am 
 unwilling, however, to give advice in any matter that is to change 
 a person's whole plan of life. The advantages of the post have 
 no doubt been sufficiently detailed to you. The situation is one 
 of the most beautiful in the world, and extremely healthy. The 
 pay and quarters would enable you to live in a handsome style. 
 The place being the national military school, assembles men of 
 talents of all kinds. The duties of your professorship would not 
 take up more than two hours a day, leaving you the rest for the 
 prosecution of your art. You would be in the best of situations 
 for the education of your children. You would be in the imme- 
 diate neighbourhood of my friend Governor Kemble, and of the 
 place where I hope to pass the greater part of my time ; and you 
 are within four hours' sail of New York, and steamboats pass 
 several times in the course of the day. These are some of the 
 advantages which immediately occur ; your brother can doubtless 
 enumerate others. You yourself will be able to furnish the 
 counter arguments. 
 
 The improvements in living, and the resources for living agreea- 
 bly in the United States, have multiplied wonderfully since I went 
 abroad. I have enjoyed myself delightfully since my return, and 
 am satisfied that I can live as pleasantly here as in any part of 
 the world. 
 
 Your appointment is a mark of great respect on the part of the 
 Government, strong interest having been made to procure the 
 situation for various artists resident in the country. 
 
1834.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 295 
 
 I can only say that it would rejoice my heart to see you on 
 this side of the Atlantic ; but I will not take upon myself the 
 responsibility of advising you to come. 
 
 I would have given anything to have had you with me on a 
 tour I took last summer and autumn, first to the White Mountains 
 of New Hampshire, and then to the far West, several hundred 
 miles west of the Mississippi, and almost to the Mexican bounda- 
 ries. I was for two months leading a hunter's life, camping out, 
 sleeping in the open air, and depending upon the chase for pro- 
 visions. Saw various tribes of Indians ; hunted the buffalo, &c, 
 &c, &c. Should you come to the United States it will be very 
 easy to get an opportunity to visit the frontier free of expense, 
 by accompanying some public expedition, and you will witness 
 scenes well worthy of your pencil. I was part of the time with 
 a troop of ninety mounted rangers, clad in the ordinary but varied 
 garments of the frontiers, and our encampments reminded me 
 completely of the descriptions of Robin Hood and his followers. 
 
 Do scrawl me a line. Let me know how Childe Newton acts 
 the Benedict, and how his charming little wife likes England. 
 Give my kind remembrances to your wife, and believe me ever, 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 Washington Irving. 
 
 His old master Mr. Bradford, his brother, and many other 
 zealous friends did their utmost to procure for him the realisation 
 of the hopes and inducement which led him to leave England, but 
 in vain. Congress seems to have had no special appreciation of 
 the painter, and no particular wish to do anything that should 
 attach him to his native country. Early in the following year 
 he left West Point and the United States, never to return. 
 
 1834. 
 
 No picture by Leslie was exhibited this year, but he painted 
 about this time, and after his return to this country in May, a 
 portrait of Lady Lilford, for her father, Lord Holland. 
 
 Leslie, as usual, spent part of this summer and autumn at Pet- 
 
296 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1834. 
 
 worth. He writes thence to Constable. The letter is worth 
 notice for its ample acknowledgment of the obligations under 
 which Leslie felt himself to Constable in his art. Many will be 
 of opinion, probably, that whatever might have been the advan- 
 tage to Leslie of Constable's genuine love of out-door nature, and 
 his keen and life-long observation of atmospheric effects, the 
 advantage was counterbalanced by some decided drawbacks, not 
 the least of them an abuse of pure white, in the attempt to render 
 the sparkle and brilliance of sunlight. It is no doubt true that 
 the spotty and splashed look which this use of pure white gave to 
 most of Constable's pictures, and the raw, cold, and opaque char- 
 acter imparted by the employment of the same pigment in lights 
 without over glazing, are likely to diminish, and have diminished, 
 with time. But it seems to me indisputable, that the substitution 
 of Constable's for Newton's influence and example upon Leslie as 
 a colourist, was altogether unfavourable to his brilliancy and trans- 
 parency, if of benefit to the permanence of his work. A compari- 
 son of the i Catherine and Petruchio ' with the ' Who can this 
 be ? ' and ' Who can this be from ? ' in the Sheepshanks' col- 
 lection, will illustrate my meaning. 
 
 There is an openness and fulness in Leslie's acknowledgments 
 very characteristic of the man. 
 
 TO JOHN CONSTABLE, R.A. 
 
 Petworth, Sept. bih, 1834. 
 My Dear Constable, — I hope you will not put off coming 
 later than Wednesday or Thursday next, as, soon after that, we 
 must think of returning to London, and I do think you will really 
 enjoy the visit. 
 
 The Gainsborough which you so truly feel is still on the 
 ground, and there is a very fine Wilson which perhaps you did 
 not see. There is a gem of a Bassan also, which came from 
 London since you were here, and which Lord Egremont allows 
 me to have in my room. I am afraid you did not quite under- 
 stand what I meant by your keen eye. I am only afraid of it 
 because I know no fault can escape it. Do not for a moment 
 imagine I am insensible of my obligations to it. You not only 
 
1834.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 297 
 
 did me the greatest service in inducing me to enlarge my 
 1 Sancho,' but you entirely composed my ' Sterne and the French 
 Woman ; ' that is, you composed the light and shadow for me. I 
 am not aware that I have painted a picture since I have known 
 you that has not been in some degree the better for your remarks, 
 and I constantly feel that if I could please you with what I do, I 
 should be sure to please myself. But enough of this ; you may 
 think I want compliments, but indeed I do not. 
 
 I am glad on every account you are likely to visit Petworth 
 just now. I never so much enjoyed being here, and Lord Egre- 
 mont is so uncommonly well. Mr. King, his son-in-law, says that 
 since he has known him he does not remember his being so well. 
 The weather is delicious. I trust it will continue as it is during 
 your visit. 
 
 To-day forty people dine here, most of them magistrates, and 
 the house is as full as it can hold. Among them is the Duke of 
 Richmond. I have just been looking at the table as it is set out 
 in the carved room, covered with magnificent gold and silver plate. 
 Callcott has been here, and went to day. * * * * 
 Dear Constable, 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 In the following letter to Irving, now resettled at his home in 
 New York, Leslie gives an account of his visit to their poor 
 friend, Newton, in the Lunatic Asylum at Chelsea, where he was 
 now confined : — 
 
 12, Pine Apple Place, Edgeware Road, 
 London, Dec. 29, 1834. 
 
 You are often mentioned by others in their letters, but I wish 
 much to hear from yourself, how you are, what you are doing, 
 and when there is any chance of your paying another visit to 
 England. Mr. Dunlop has sent me the sheets of his 6 History 
 of American Painters.' I think if it can be made known by a 
 good review it will have an extensive circulation. There are 
 some things in it I regret to see ; but it contains a great deal 
 which, I think, will interest the public, and would interest in this 
 
298 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1834. 
 
 country, — but I cannot get either Murray, Bentley, or Longman 
 to publish it. I find he has made most honourable mention of 
 me, and that you have helped him to put a good face on the 
 matter. I read your account of poor Newton with great interest, 
 and a revival of many pleasant recollections of the days of yore ; 
 but I am sorry for some things Dunlop has inserted of him. I 
 think some allowance ought to be made for him when last in 
 America, for it now seems to be the general opinion of his friends 
 that his malady was gaining on him for some time before it be- 
 came confirmed. I see him frequently ; he always knows me 
 and often talks as well as ever he did. There is no alteration in 
 his appearance or manner, except that the latter is more subdued 
 and quiet. His habits, unlike when in health, are perfectly 
 regular (but this is, in some measure, the necessary consequence 
 of his confinement). He goes to bed at ten, rises at eight to walk 
 in the garden before the other patients are there, for he avoids 
 their society. He is not confined to his room, and has every 
 comfort possible in his situation. He has made more than twenty 
 sketches of original subjects, all of them good, and some equal to 
 his very best things. They are from Shakespeare. I believe Dr. 
 Sutherland does not consider his case as quite hopeless. 
 
 I spent six weeks with my wife and children at Petworth in 
 the summer. The weather was uncommonly fine, and I rambled 
 more about the neighbourhood than I had ever done before, with 
 Constable, who was there part of the time. Among other things, 
 we stumbled on a melancholy looking, remote, stern farm-house, 
 and while he stopped to make a sketch of the outside, which was 
 very picturesque, I went in to draw the interior. It was in a dilapi- 
 dated condition, and the woman who lives there told me it was 
 known by the name of ' Wicked Hammond's house,' from one of 
 its former possessors, but beyond the time of her recollection. 
 There were traditions, however, in the neighbourhood, that this 
 wicked Hammond was a very bad man, who lived there alone ; 
 and it was also reported that since his time the house had been 
 haunted, but this she could not confirm from her own experience, 
 as neither she nor her husband had ever seen the ghost ; but 
 that about four months ago, in cleaning out an old well, some 
 human bones had been found. I asked her if she was sure they 
 
1835.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 299 
 
 were not the bones of some other animal ; but she said the sexton 
 had seen them, and declared that one of them was ' the arm bone 
 of a Christian? I am very busy with a picture of ' Gulliver's 
 Introduction to the Queen of Brobdingnag,' which I think will be 
 my best, as I always do of the last. Columbus is finished, and I 
 hope to have both in the next Exhibition. 
 
 1835. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Columbus and the Egg. (Painted for W. Wells, Esq., Redleaf; afterwards 
 purchased by Lord Northwick, and sold at the sale of the Northwick col- 
 lection in 1859 for 1160 guineas; now in the possession of Joseph Gillott, 
 Esq., Birmingham.) 
 
 " Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, the Grand Cardinal of Spain, invited 
 Columbus to a banquet, where he assigned him the most honourable place 
 at table. * * * A shallow courtier present, impatient of the honours 
 paid to Columbus, and meanly jealous of him as a foreigner, abruptly 
 asked him whether he thought that in case he had not discovered the 
 Indies, there were not other men who would have been capable of the en- 
 terprise. To this Columbus made no immediate reply, but taking an egg, 
 invited the company to make it stand upon one end. Everyone attempted 
 it, but in vain ; whereupon he struck it upon the table so as to break the 
 end, and left it standing upon the broken part; illustrating, in this simple 
 manner, that when he had once shown the way to the New World, nothing 
 was easier than to follow it." — Irving , s Life of Columbus. Book v. Chap. 7. 
 
 Gulliver's Introduction to the Queen of Brobdingnag. (Painted for 
 Lord Egremont.) 
 
 " Her Majesty, and those who attended her. were beyond measure de- 
 lighted with my demeanour. I fell on my knees, and begged the honour 
 of kissing her imperial foot; but this gracious princess held out her little 
 finger towards me (after I was set on a table), which I embraced in both 
 my arms, and put the tip of it with the utmost respect to my lips. * * * 
 She then asked my master whether he were willing to sell me at a good 
 price. He, who apprehended I could not live a month, was ready enough 
 to part with me, and demanded a thousand pieces of gold, which were 
 ordered him on the spot." — Voyage to Brobdingnag, Chap. 3. 
 About this time, too, Leslie painted a family group for Lord Westminster, 
 which was not exhibited. 
 
 On the 2nd of July, was born the painter's third son, George 
 Dunlop, — now following his father's profession. 
 
 I find the following letters of this year from and to Irving : — 
 
300 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM 
 
 [1835. 
 
 New York, March 8, 1835. 
 
 My Dear Leslie, — I have been exceedingly gratified by 
 the receipt of a letter from you, and to learn that you are going 
 to be so strong in the Exhibition this year. I regret continually 
 that I did not see your Columbus before you sailed. As to your 
 Gulliver, I do not see how you will make the spectators know that 
 the giants are not people of the common size, and Gulliver a 
 pigmy.* The story, luckily, is generally known, and most of 
 the spectators will, in that way, understand the subject. 
 
 Your account of poor Newton's situation is rather less gloomy 
 than I had apprehended. It is a great source of enjoyment to him 
 and comfort to his friends, that he is enabled to occupy himself 
 with his pencil. In this way the better part of him, his genius, 
 will not be lost to the world. 
 
 Give my kind remembrance to Mrs. Leslie. I write in ex- 
 treme haste. ******* 
 
 London, May 11$, 1835. 
 My Dear Irving, — I received your letter a short time ago, 
 and hope, now that our correspondence is revived, we shall keep 
 it up until we meet again, — an event I confidently look forward 
 to. You must have heard, very soon after you wrote, of the pub- 
 lication of your ' Tour on the Prairies.' Mr. Rogers, whose op- 
 portunities of knowing are the best, says it is very popular with 
 such people as you would like it to be popular with in this coun- 
 try. Murray sent Mrs. Leslie a copy, and we have read it with 
 very great pleasure. I am particularly pleased with the account 
 you give of the Indians, and am glad you have stripped off that 
 theatrical and unnatural character which the poets and romance 
 writers had given them, and have shown (what I always sus- 
 pected) that they are essentially much more like other people 
 than we have been led to think. I am also delighted at your ac- 
 count of those very respectable little dogs you met with. How 
 I should have enjoyed lounging on the ground with you the day 
 you spent in watching them. As to your buffalo hunting, &c, I 
 own I prefer reading about it to having been present, not being a 
 * This is precisely the defect of the picture. — Ed. 
 
1835.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 301 
 
 good horseman, and entertaining (as Leigh Hunt expresses it) 
 "a distant respect for a bull." Murray has just sent us your 
 ' Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey,' and we are reading it with 
 great pleasure. I have seen the very honourable mention you 
 have made of me to Dunlop, as it appears in his book, and can- 
 not but think you have said much more for me than I deserve ; 
 at any rate you have put the best face on the matter, for had you 
 described me as I know you know me to be, tffere would have 
 been something to put down on the opposite side of the account. 
 Poor Newton has not fared so well ; all his faults have been ar- 
 rayed against him, not by you but by his biographers. I am sorry 
 to say he is no better in mind, though quite well in body, and by 
 no means unhappy, which is the most comfortable thing his 
 friends can now know of him. I have sent my ' Columbus,' and 
 ' Gulliver ' to the Exhibition. Wilkie's ' Columbus ' is also in 
 the Exhibition, and a very grand picture it is, one of his finest. 
 The figures are nearly as large as life, and look quite so. The 
 boy (Columbus's son) is admirably introduced, and makes a fine 
 contrast with the other figures. 
 
 12, Pine Apple Place, Edgeware Road, 
 July 8th, 1835. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — I write, in great haste, to ask you a 
 question I am desired to do by Charles Heath, who has just called 
 to say he intends publishing an American landscape annual, con- 
 sisting of views on the Hudson, and he is very desirous of engag- 
 ing you to furnish the letter-press on your own terms. It is to 
 be on the plan of ' Turner's Annual Tour,' edited by Leitch 
 Ritchie. I have written to Cole, at his request, to furnish the 
 drawings. If you choose to engage in it, I should think you will 
 not find it very troublesome, as you may throw into it so much 
 historical matter relating to Revolutionary scenes. The details 
 of Arnold's treachery, and the capture and death of Andre, for 
 instance. Pray let me have your answer as soon as possible. 
 Should you decline it, perhaps you may know somebody capable 
 and willing to engage in such a work. I have read your 'Abbots- 
 ford and Newstead Abbey' with great interest. Your account 
 of Scott brought tears to my eyes. Nothing can be more beauti- 
 
302 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1836. 
 
 ful, nor more true than the conclusion, in which you give his 
 character as a man and as a writer. We are all quite well. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie presented me with another son on the 2nd, and is 
 doing extremely well. 
 
 P. S. — Poor Newton, I am sorry to say, is no better. 
 1836. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (329) Autolycus. (Painted for J. Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the Nation- 
 al Collection.) 
 
 " Here's another ballad, Of a fish, that appeared upon the coast, on 
 Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand fathom above water, 
 and sung this ballad about the hard hearts of maids.'" 
 
 Winter's Tale, Act. iv. Scene 3. 
 An Evening Landscape from Mr. Leslie's Window. — A Small Picture 
 ok Amy Robsart. (Painted for Mr. Sheepshanks, and engraved. Now in 
 the National Collection.) 
 
 The following letter to Miss Anne Leslie, touches on a point 
 that should still stir the susceptibilities of American patriotism. 
 I am not aware that Mount Vernon has yet been purchased by 
 the nation, in honour of Washington, or that Stuart's full-length 
 portrait of the founder and consolidator of his country's indepen- 
 dence yet adorns the place of his birth. 
 
 • 
 
 London, Sept. 24, 1836. 
 
 My Dear Anne, — You will excuse a hasty letter from me 
 just now, as we are in the bustle of packing up for a visit to Pet- 
 worth. Lord Egremont was in town a few weeks ago and asked 
 us all again, and we set off early to-morrow morning. 
 
 I was much gratified by your last letter, giving me an account 
 of your visit to Washington. I once spent a fortnight there when 
 I was with Mr. Bradford, but from what you tell me it must be 
 now greatly improved. Your account of the present state of 
 Mount Vernon is very melancholy. It ought to be preserved, 
 and the picture of Washington by Stuart, which belonged to Mr. 
 
1837.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 303 
 
 Williams — the finest whole- length of him in existence — should 
 be there. Mr. McLane, on his return to America, proposed to 
 Congress that Stuart's picture should be purchased for the nation, 
 but the measure was thrown out. 
 
 If Henry Carey and a few other public spirited Philadelphians 
 would unite, and raise a subscription for the purchase of it to 
 adorn the Hall of Independence in Philadelphia, they would 
 deserve the thanks of their fellow-citizens both now and hereaf- 
 ter. The picture belongs to Mr. Lewis, and is still in London, 
 and I believe might be had for seven or eight hundred guineas. 
 It is the common remark of travellers that in America there are 
 no antiquities, — no objects of veneration belonging to times past. 
 Americans themselves feel this, and yet they make little effort to 
 preserve or secure those they might. To a stranger visiting 
 Philadelphia, how interesting it would be to be shown the houses 
 of Penn and Franklin. I was glad to find the Hall of Independ- 
 ence preserved, and if it could be filled with the portraits of the 
 most distinguished statesmen and soldiers of the revolution, and 
 among them the picture I have mentioned of Washington, Phila- 
 delphia might boast of a monument of the past far exceeding in 
 interest anything to be found in any other part of the Union. 
 
 You ask me for an impression of the ' May Day,' and you 
 shall have one soon, when I hope to have something else to send 
 with it, Eliza had said she thought an engraving from some 
 picture of mine would be acceptable to aunt Hayes, and I there- 
 fore sent her one of the only two I had to spare at that time. 
 
 1837. 
 
 Pictures of the year. 
 
 (47) Perdita. (Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the National 
 Collection.) A study for this picture is in the possession of A. J. Heugh, 
 Esq. 
 
 " Here's flowers for you; 
 
 Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; 
 The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, 
 And with him rises weeping: these are flowers 
 Of middle summer, and, I think, they are given 
 To men of middle age : You are very welcome ! " 
 
 Winter's Tale, Act iv. Scene 3. 
 
304 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1837. 
 
 (66) Chaeles II. and the Lady Bellenden. (Painted for the Earl of Egre- 
 mont. A small repetition of the picture was painted in 1856.) 
 
 " Upon his route through the West of Scotland to meet Cromwell in 
 the unfortunate field of Worcester, Charles the Second had actually- 
 breakfasted at the Tower of Tillietudlem, an incident which formed, 
 from that moment, an important era in the life of Lady Margaret, who 
 seldom afterwards partook of that meal, either at home or abroad, with- 
 out detailing the whole circumstances of the Royal visit; not forgetting 
 the salutation which his Majesty conferred on each side of her face, 
 though she sometimes omitted to notice that he bestowed the same 
 favour on two buxom serving-wenches who appeared at her back, ele- 
 vated for the day into the capacity of waiting gentlewomen." — Old 
 Mortality, chap. 2. 
 
 Leslie had this year to deplore the loss of his friend Constable, 
 for whom it would be hard to say whether he felt more affection 
 as a man, or more admiration as a landscape-painter. In May, 
 the Royal Academy was transferred from Somerset House to Mr. 
 Wilkins's building in Trafalgar Square. The following letter 
 to Miss Leslie gives an account of the opening of the new build- 
 ing by King William IV., one of the King's last public acts. 
 
 TO MISS A. LESLIE. 
 
 London, May 23, 1837. 
 
 You will, I dare say, like to have some account of the opening 
 of the Exhibition in the new building, and I have really not had 
 time till now to sit down and give it you. 
 
 The private views took place on the 28th April, and the King 
 had sent us word that he would come at one o'clock. As he came 
 all the way from Windsor for the purpose, he could not be at the 
 Academy at twelve o'clock as usual. It was therefore arranged 
 that the general company should not be admitted till three. The 
 portico of the new building commands a view of the whole length 
 of Pall Mall to St. James's, and as it is elevated considerably 
 above the foot-way, most of us were standing there a little before 
 one, looking anxiously towards the palace, when exactly at the 
 appointed hour we saw the Royal carriages appear in the distance. 
 A guard of soldiers, with a band of music, were stationed in front 
 of the building, and behind them an immense crowd, winch ex- 
 
1837.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 305 
 
 tended on the left to St. Martin's Church, the steps and even the 
 roof of which were covered with people : the bells pealing a 
 merry chime from the steeple. The scene as the King's carriage 
 drew up was altogether very imposing. The old gentleman looked 
 out of spirits ; he has recently lost his favourite daughter, Lady 
 de Lisle, and was in deep mourning, and the Queen was prevent- 
 ed from coming by illness. The King wore neither star nor ribbon, 
 but was dressed in a plain suit of black. The Princess Augusta, 
 the Dukes of Cumberland and Cambridge, and two of the King's 
 sons, and Lady Mary, and Colonel Fox, Lady Errol (another of 
 the King's daughters), Madame d'Este (daughter of the Duke of 
 Sussex), and several lords and ladies in waiting, formed the 
 Royal party. I think they came in eight carriages, all with the 
 Royal arms and liveries. When the King entered the door, Sir 
 Martin Shee presented him the keys of the Academy on a silver 
 plate. They were highly polished, and had arrived that morning 
 from Birmingham, and as it had been found (to the great conster- 
 nation of the workman), would not fit the locks. The King, 
 however, did not try them, but returned them to the President, 
 saying, " He could not place them in better hands." 
 
 His Majesty then went- regularly through all the rooms, at- 
 tended by the President and a lord in waiting, with each a cata- 
 logue in their hands, ready to answer any questions, we (i. e., the 
 members of the Council) following at a respectful distance, and 
 taking care (which required some little attention) never to stand 
 with our backs to his Majesty. When he had completed the round 
 of the Exhibition, he asked what o'clock it was, and being told it 
 wanted a quarter to three, he desired Lord Albemarle to make ar- 
 rangements for the departure. According to etiquette, all the 
 Royal party left the rooms in threes and fours, as their carriages 
 were announced before the King, who was left at last with only 
 the Princess Augusta and a lord and lady in waiting. We were 
 then standing in a row before him, and he addressed us all in a 
 loud tone, and expressed his perfect satisfaction with the Exhibi- 
 tion. He bowed round to us, and we all bowed still lower, and 
 followed him out of the room. When he came out under the por- 
 tico, the band struck up " God Save the King," and he advanced 
 to the front, bare-headed, and bowed to the people below, who 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1837. 
 
 cheered him loudly. He left the door exactly at three, and in be- 
 ing thus punctual showed his consideration for those who he 
 knew expected to be admitted at that time. The rooms were 
 very soon crowded with the usual visitors ; and about four o'clock 
 the Duchess of Kent and Princess Victoria came, without any 
 ceremony, in the midst of the company, having sent us word in 
 the morning that they intended doing so. This was never done 
 before, their visits on all other occasions having been strictly pri- 
 vate. The little Princess has all the charms of health, youth, 
 and high spirits. She could have seen little of the Exhibition, as 
 she was herself, from the moment of her entering the room, the 
 sole object of attraction, and there were so many people among 
 the nobility present whom she knew, and every one of whom had 
 something to say to her. She heard that Charles Kemble was in 
 the room, and she desired he might be presented to her, which 
 gave him an opportunity of making one of his best genteel com- 
 edy bows. She shook hands and chatted with Mr. Rogers. 
 
 As the private view, you know, is a show of company and not 
 of pictures, I have left myself no room to speak of the latter, 
 but will do so in another letter, and by the first opportunity I 
 will send you a catalogue. 
 
 Turner desires me to tell E*** C**** that he cannot under- 
 take a picture of less size than three feet by four, and that his 
 price will be 200 guineas for that size. * * * * 
 
 This year, too, was that of Her Majesty's coronation, at which 
 ceremony Leslie was present. He gives an account of it to his 
 sister in the following letter. 
 
 London, July 24, 1837. 
 I am painting Lord and Lady Holland at their house, and 
 through the kindness of her ladyship I obtained a ticket to see 
 the coronation from the Earl Marshal's box. A ticket was also 
 sent me as a member of the Academy, which I gave to Harriet, 
 but as they were for different parts of the Abbey and different 
 entrances, we could not go together. I was obliged to hire a 
 Court dress for the occasion, and appeared for the first and last 
 time of my life with a sword by my side. I was very near the 
 
1837.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 307 
 
 altar and the chair in which the Queen was crowned, and when 
 she signed the coronation oath, I could see that she wrote a large 
 bold hand. I intend painting the subject, and Lady Holland ob- 
 tained for me an order of admission to sketch the decorations in 
 the Abbey before they were removed. 
 
 I took Harriet and the four eldest children, and though the 
 crowd was immense, we were protected by two policemen, who 
 kept an open space for us, and placed in the same seat from which 
 I had witnessed the ceremony, where we staid, quite out of the 
 crowd, and as long as we pleased. It is impossible by words to 
 convey to you an idea of the magnificence of the spectacle. 
 Even the appearance of the Abbey with the spectators (before 
 any of the personages engaged in the ceremony came in), was 
 worth getting up at half-past two in the morning, as we did, to 
 witness. We were in the Abbey from five till past four in the 
 afternoon. Refreshments of every kind were to be had there, 
 but I had taken some biscuits in my pocket which satisfied me. 
 The Queen, I am told, had studied her part very diligently, and 
 she went through it extremely well. I don't know why, but the 
 first sight of her in her robes, brought tears into my eyes, and it 
 had this effect on many people ; she looked almost like a child. 
 She is very fond of dogs, and has one very favourite little spaniel, 
 who is always on the look out for her return when she has been 
 from home. She had of course been separated from him on that 
 day longer than usual, and when the state coach drove up to the 
 steps of the palace, she heard him barking with joy in the hall, 
 and exclaimed, ' There's Dash ! ' and was in a hurry to lay aside 
 the sceptre and ball she carried in her hands, and take off the 
 crown and robes, to go and wash little Dash. ***** 
 
 * * * The place where I sat, commanded a view of the peers 
 but not the peeresses, except of the Royal Family, all of whom I 
 was very near. The Duke de Nemours was in the same box 
 with them. 
 
 The young Queen visited the Exhibition in August. Here is 
 Leslie's account of the visit. 
 
308 
 
 EXTKACTS FROM 
 
 [1837. 
 
 TO MISS ANNE LESLIE. 
 
 London, Aug. 15, 1837. 
 
 Before the pictures were removed from the Exhibition, the 
 little Queen paid it a visit. She did not go in state (that is, with 
 a guard of soldiers), and the policemen and her footmen had great 
 difficulty in keeping the crowd from incommoding her when she 
 alighted at the Academy. 
 
 Her mother was with her, and she was attended by the Duchess 
 of Sutherland, the Marchioness of Tavistock, and two young ladies 
 whose names I did not hear. These, with Lord Albemarle, and 
 two young gentlemen, completed her suite. They were all dressed 
 very plainly in mourning, and there was nothing to distinguish the 
 Queen from the other ladies, but a long train, which was not, how- 
 ever, held up. She looked very pretty, and none of the engrav- 
 ings yet published do her anything like justice. Chalon has 
 made a splendid drawing of her, whole length, in the robes of 
 state, and when an engraving of this gets to America, you will 
 know how she looks. Her manner is unaffectedly graceful, and 
 towards her mother she appears the same affectionate little girl 
 we saw at the Academy on the 1st of May, still calling her 
 ' Mamma.' Before leaving the rooms, the President presented 
 each of us to her separately, at her own request, and she after- 
 wards took occasion to address a word or two to each by name. 
 She asked me how many pictures I had there, and if I did not 
 think it a very fine exhibition. The day was very fine, and on 
 her leaving the Academy, her carriage was opened, so that the 
 crowd, which had greatly increased, had a full view of her as 
 she drove away, amidst the most enthusiastic greetings. It is 
 remarkable that the first exhibition of the Academy in the new 
 building, should have been visited by two sovereigns, and two 
 heirs presumptive to the throne (the Duke of Cumberland being 
 the present heir, and the Queen having been the heir when the 
 Academy opened). ****** 
 
 In September Leslie was again at Petworth. Lord Egremont 
 
1838.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 309 
 
 was now in his eighty-fifth year. The globe Leslie speaks of in 
 the following letter to his wife, is the one introduced in his pic- 
 ture of ' Lady Carlisle carrying the Pardon to the Duke of 
 Northumberland in the Tower.' 
 
 Sept. 5th, 1837. 
 
 Dearest Harry ! — When I got here yesterday, Lord Egre- 
 mont and all the family were at Egg Dean fair, so that you may 
 judge how well he is. On his return he would go up-stairs to 
 look at the pictures which were in my room, although I offered 
 to bring them down ; and this morning he was up in the top 
 rooms of all after the old globe which I am to introduce into the 
 new picture. He approves of the composition, and I am to go 
 on with it as it is. How much I wish you could be with me ! 
 The house is so quiet. 
 
 Heaven bless thee, dearest Harry ! I wish it were possible 
 for thee and dear Mary to come here next week, or if you could 
 bring them all. Lord Egremont is so well, and the house is so 
 quiet, and it seems so unnatural for me to be here without 
 thee. * * 
 
 1838. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 The Principal Characters in the ' Merry Wives of Windsor' Assem- 
 bled at the House of Mr. Page. (A scene not in the play, but sup- 
 posed to take place in the first act) — 
 
 " There's pippins and cheese to come." 
 
 — Sir Hugh Evans. 
 He had painted the same subject, with variations, in 1831. The picture 
 of 1838 was painted for Mr. Sheepshanks, and is now in the National Col- 
 lection. 
 
 A Portrait of Mrs. Bates. (Tn the collection of Joshua Bates, Esq. En- 
 graved — private plate.) 
 
 Of the year's exhibition, which contained Wilkie's picture of 
 ' The Queen's First Council,' he says, in a letter to his sister 
 Anne, of April 30, 
 
 " I have just returned from the Academy, where I think we 
 
310 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1838. 
 
 shall have an amusing exhibition. There are Queens of all sorts 
 and sizes, as you may suppose, good, bad, and indifferent. Sully's 
 is not finished, and of course not there ; the best are Wilkie's and 
 Chalon's. Wilkie has painted her at her first council, which took 
 place immediately on the news of the death of the King reaching 
 London. There are an immense number of figures, and the 
 peculiarity of the subject, a young girl of eighteen, unattended 
 by any other female, taking her place at the head of a long table 
 and surrounded by all the great dignitaries of the church, state, 
 and law, is very striking. She is dressed very simply, in white 
 (for it is not the etiquette that she should be in mourning till after 
 the funeral of the King), and this adds to her innocent and dove- 
 like appearance. Chalon's drawing of her is, I think, a better 
 likeness than Wilkie's ; it is a small whole-length figure, sitting, 
 and in her every-day dress." * * * 
 
 This year brought the painter into his first contact with 
 Royalty. He began, in the autumn, his picture of ' The Queen 
 receiving the Sacrament at her Coronation.' He describes in his 
 Autobiography the circumstances to which he owed this honour r 
 able but onerous commission. I have known more than one 
 painter who has been similarly honoured, but I fear they would 
 all agree that the honour hardly compensates the anxiety, fret, 
 and loss of time inseparable from having to paint exalted person- 
 ages, whose days are too much at the bidding of state and cere- 
 monial engagements to allow of their giving a painter either long 
 or regular sittings. Leslie used to employ his enforced leisure on 
 these occasions in copying one of her Majesty's exquisite De 
 Hooghes and a Nicholas Maas. These copies were included in 
 the recent sale of the painter's sketches and studies, and showed 
 that power of catching the spirit and character, and much of the 
 magical atmospheric effect, of the originals, which might have 
 been anticipated from skill like Leslie's united to his feeling and 
 admiration for the works of these wonderful Dutchmen. I print 
 these letters written to his wife from Windsor, as presenting a 
 pretty contrast between the painter's home thoughts and longings 
 and his employment. His heart was all the while in the quiet 
 little house in St. John's Wood, thinking of the " old sofa," and 
 
1838.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 311 
 
 " the door to be cut from Braddy's room," and " what little cheap 
 toy he could bring home for each of the darlings." 
 
 Castle Inn, Dec. lllh, 1838. 
 
 Dearest Love ! — The train was heavily loaded to-day, hav- 
 ing (besides the weight of my newly-acquired consequence) five 
 coaches and I don't know how many horses. We got to Windsor, 
 however, a very few minutes past ten, and I have established 
 myself in the pleasant bedroom we had together. I had no 
 sittings to-day, nor have I seen her Majesty, who rode out. I 
 was glad to find Lord Melbourne is here, and I sent a message to 
 him to request a sitting to-morrow, and received for answer that 
 he will do so with pleasure. The Duchess will also sit, and 
 should I get them both done, I hope to be at home on Thursday. 
 At any rate, I have no doubt of being with you on Friday, that 
 I may attend the club* I found at the Castle a letter from Lady 
 Holland waiting for me, full of kind expressions, and the con- 
 gratulations of Lord Holland and herself. She says they will be 
 away ten days or a fortnight. She has heard from Lord Mel- 
 bourne and Lady Cowper that the Queen is extremely pleased 
 with the picture. 
 
 I think the sooner you get the door cut from Braddy's room, 
 the better, but do not have the old sofa removed up-stairs till I 
 return. 
 
 The reporter of the ' Court Circular ' asked to see me this 
 afternoon, and wanted to know what I wished put in the papers. 
 I told him there was nothing to put in, as the Queen had not been 
 sitting to-day. 
 
 I have really nothing more, dear pet, to fill my paper with, and 
 you know I can't write without materials. 
 
 Heaven bless thee, and all the rest of thee, from long Bob 
 down to short George. Tell me what little cheap toy I can bring 
 for each of them, — something easily packed. 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 P. S. — I shall look anxiously for one of thy nice letters to- 
 morrow. 
 
 * The Sketching Society. — Ed. 
 
312 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1838. 
 
 I am sorry to say I have a companion in the coffee room. I 
 hope he will go away to-morrow. 
 
 Windsor, 12th Dec. 1838. 
 Dearest Harry ! — I was a little disappointed at no letter 
 from thee to-day, but I suppose thee had nothing to tell me, and 
 plenty to do besides writing. I hoped to be with thee to-morrow, 
 but am sorry to say I cannot. Lord Melbourne sat this morning, 
 like a good prime minister, but was called away, and will sit again 
 to-morrow ; and the Duchess of Kent sent word she would prefer 
 sitting to-morrow instead of to-day, and I was obliged to acquiesce. 
 She will have the dress on that she wore. The Queen held a 
 council, and afterwards rode, and I saw her not. Lady Mary 
 Stopford came in, and praised the picture very much, and I 
 thought her a very agreeable person, — and my friend the lighter 
 of fires also looked at it and said, " that's very like Melbourne" 
 quite in the style and tone of Peter. I painted till half-past three 
 and then took a turn on the terrace, and now I have the evening 
 before me. I am happy to say the man who was in the coffee 
 room yesterday has gone. The villain sat in my arm chair, the 
 only one of the kind in the room. If I can get the Duchess 
 done in one sitting, I have no doubt of being home on Friday, 
 but if not it will be Saturday ; and unless I have something par- 
 ticular to say, I had better not write to thee again, to save the 
 postage, but I do hope for a letter from thee to-morrow. Love 
 and kisses to all, but most to thy dear self, from thy 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 At the same date he writes to his sister Anne : — 
 
 * * * " My late letters to you have been chiefly on one subject, 
 the Coronation, a subject now far more important to me than ever. 
 I came here on the 29 th of last month by appointment to have a 
 sitting of the Queen, and with little expectation of having more 
 than one. The composition was entirely arranged on the canvas, 
 and the Queen seemed much pleased when she saw it. At the 
 conclusion of the sitting she said she would sit again the next 
 day, and a few minutes after she left the room the Marquis of 
 
1838.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 313 
 
 Conyngham (Lord Chamberlain) came in, and asked me if the 
 picture was bespoken. He said he knew her Majesty would like 
 to have a picture of mine, and he thought she would prefer this 
 subject to any other. I told him it was begun conditionally for a 
 gentleman who was to have given me an answer a month ago 
 whether or not he would take it. As this gentleman had been in 
 town, but had not called to see the picture, and to let me know his 
 decision at the time he had himself appointed, I considered it now 
 to be at my own disposal, and that of course I should feel very 
 highly honoured should her Majesty wish to possess it. The next 
 morning Lord Torrington, with Lady Tavistock and some of the 
 maids of honour, came to look at it, and said they were sure, from 
 the way in which the Queen spoke of it at dinner the day before, 
 she intended to have it, which 1 soon heard was the case. 
 
 " I have been here ever since with the exception of a day or 
 two in town (I perform the journey in an hour by the railroad), 
 and the Queen has sat five times. She is now so far satisfied 
 with the likeness that she does not wish me to touch it again. 
 She sat not only for the face, but for as much as is seen of 
 the figure, and for the hands with the coronation ring on her 
 finger. Her hands, by the bye, are very pretty, the backs dim- 
 pled, and the fingers delicately shaped. She was particular also 
 in having her hair dressed exactly as she wore it at the ceremony 
 every time she sat. She has suggested an alteration in the com- 
 position of the picture, and I suppose she thinks it like the scene, 
 for she asked me where I sat, and said, ' I suppose you made a 
 sketch on the spot.' 
 
 " The Duchess of Kent and Lord Melbourne are now sitting 
 to me, and last week I had sittings of Lord Conyngham and 
 Lady Fanny Cowper (a very beautiful girl and one of the 
 Queen's train-bearers), who was here for a few days on a visit 
 to her Majesty. Every day lunch is sent to me, which, as it is 
 always very plentiful and good, I generally make my dinner. The 
 best of wine is sent in a beautiful little decanter with a V. R. and 
 the crown engraved on it, and the tablecloth and napkins have the 
 royal arms and other insignia on them as a pattern. 
 
 " I have two very good friends at the Castle, one of the pages, 
 and a little man who lights the fires. The Queen's pages are not 
 
314 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1839. 
 
 little boys in green, but tall and stout gentlemen from forty to fifty 
 years of age. My friend (Mr. Batchelor) was a page in the 
 time of George III. and was then twenty years old. George IV. 
 died in his arms, he says, in a room adjoining the one I am paint- 
 ing in. Mr. Batchelor comes into the room whenever there is 
 nobody there, and admires the picture to my heart's content. My 
 other friend, the fire-lighter, is extremely like Peter Powell, only 
 a size larger. He also greatly admires the picture ; he confesses 
 he knows nothing about the robes, and can't say whether they 
 are like or not, but he pronounces the Queen's likeness excel- 
 lent." * * * 
 
 1839 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 * " Who Can This Be? " — * " Who Can This be From? " — * Head of 
 Sancho Panza. (Engraved). — * Head of Dulcinea. (Engraved. 
 All painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the National Collec- 
 tion.) 
 
 Portrait of Dr. Howley, Archbishop of Canterbury. (Painted for Mrs. 
 
 Howley, and engraved.) 
 Small, Portrait of the Duchess of Sutherland in her Coronation 
 
 Robes, and of the Marquis of Stafford. (Painted for Sir H. G. 
 
 Moon.) 
 
 Leslie was this year much employed on the Coronation Pic- 
 ture. During his evenings he was busy with the pen, putting 
 together his Life of Constable, which was a work of love and 
 duty with him. Mr. Forster of Pall Mall, who conducted the 
 sale of the pictures and sketches, which remained in Constable's- 
 possession at the time of his death in 1837, has told me of the 
 affectionate pains and interest with which Leslie superintended 
 and aided in the preparations and arrangements for the sale. To 
 use Mr. Forster's expressive words, " he seemed to treat the pic- 
 tures as affectionately as if they had been his friend's children." 
 And this was his real feeling. But Leslie was one of those men 
 who thought no amount of trouble or labour too great to encoun- 
 ter for a friend. He was the usual negotiator of Irving's literary 
 * See Introductory Essay. 
 
1839.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 315 
 
 bargains, and laboured in the same way as cheerfully for his sis- 
 ter. 
 
 It is mainly, if not entirely, to his strenuous efforts that we owe 
 the subscription to purchase Constable's picture of i The Corn- 
 field,' for the National Gallery ; and Leslie's correspondence 
 touching that purchase makes up a goodly bundle of MS. 
 
 His affectionate regard for all Constable's children was re- 
 doubled after their father's death. 
 
 TO MISS A. LESLIE. 
 
 " March 18, 1839. 
 
 " We are all as usual, and I have been constantly working on 
 my picture for the Queen, every day or two putting a new face 
 in it, here and there, as I can get them to sit. It will not be pos- 
 sible for me to have it ready for the Exhibition, as some of the 
 most important personages will not be ready till after Easter. 
 The picture is now at Buckingham Palace, and I had sittings 
 from the Queen and the Duchess of Kent, and her Majesty is to 
 sit again this week (I hope, for her sake, for the last time). She 
 is extremely obliging, and puts me in high spirits about the pic- 
 ture by liking it very much. 
 
 " Ask Edward Carey if he would publish a book of my writ- 
 ing, and with my name. It would be The Life of an Artist, 
 filled with the most interesting letters on all matters relating to 
 art." 
 
 " June 16, 1839. 
 
 ^jl^fetteiT ■' * * * * * 
 
 " My picture is at present at Cambridge House, where I am 
 painting the Duke of Cambridge, Princess Augusta, and Miss 
 Kerr (lady in waiting to the Princess). On Monday I take it to 
 Clarence House, to paint the Princess Augusta (the Queen's 
 aunt), and then I shall have finished the Royal Family. I have 
 now thirty two portraits in the picture. It is very amusing to me 
 being at 4he houses of those Royal personages, and seeing how 
 they live among themselves — much more so than seeing them at 
 drawing-rooms and levees, though not so splendid." 
 
316 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1839. 
 
 " London, Dec. 19, 1839. 
 * * * "In a day or two I shall send the little picture I have 
 painted for E. Carey, and I shall request him to hand you the 
 price of it (25 guineas), which I must beg you to accept from 
 me. I could not get permission to copy the sketch of Lady 
 Fanny Cowper for him, but I will paint some pretty face (a lady) 
 as a companion to the one I now send ; and if it does not meet 
 with his approbation, he may return it, or perhaps somebody else 
 may take a fancy to it in America. 
 
 " Some time ago Wilkie told me that a friend of his in New 
 Orleans had purchased of Earle your copy of ' Katharine and 
 Petruchio ' as an original picture, and never doubted its being so, 
 until he saw the engraving from Lord Egremont's picture. He 
 then wrote to Wilkie to ascertain the truth ; of course I have set 
 the matter right, but I am very sorry such a deception should be 
 practised. 
 
 " The Queen is, I believe, satisfied with my picture ; but I did 
 not see her Majesty when I took it to Windsor. 
 
 " There is no probability that a knighthood will be offered to 
 me, and therefore it is needless to say I should assuredly decline 
 it if offered. But I do not, like the fox in the fable, call the 
 grapes sour that are above my reach ; on the contrary, I think 
 titles very good things, but then they should be accompanied by 
 proportionate wealth. In our humble way of living, i Sir 
 Charles,' and 1 My Lady ' would be ridiculous. Were the case 
 even otherwise, and I could keep my carriage (which I think a 
 titled person should do), as long as such men as Chalon, Turner, 
 and Mulready are undistinguished except by the addition of R.A. 
 to their names, I may certainly be content with that honour. 
 
 " I have been introduced to Joseph Bonaparte (at his request, 
 by Captain Morgan, who brought him to England), and I am 
 much pleased with his fine, benevolent, and intelligent head, and 
 his simple, natural manners. Strange to say, something in his 
 expression (not features) reminds me of Lord Egremont. His 
 features and the shape of his head (I should think) are like 
 Napoleon's." * * * 
 
1840.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 317 
 
 1840. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited.) Portrait of the Right Hon. Charles Christopher Baron 
 Cottenham, Lord High Chancellor. (Painted for W. Russell, Esq., 
 and engraved.) 
 
 (Not exhibited.) Child in a Garden, with his Little Horse and Cart. 
 
 (A portrait of George, the painter's youngest son.) 
 Griselda. (Both in the National Collection.) 
 
 Leslie was hard at work this year on his picture of * Fairlop 
 Fair.' He loved suburban fairs, and had been a great haunter 
 of them in his student-days, with Newton, Powell, Willis, and 
 Irving. All his studies for this picture were from the life, and 
 his portfolios were full of gipsy sketches, made for it. ' 
 
 Much as Leslie loved Constable, and anxious as he was to do 
 honour to his memory in his Life of him, he found the pen a more 
 fatiguing tool than the pencil, and complains a good deal in hia 
 correspondence about the weariness of pen and ink and paper. 
 
 " April 27, 1840. 
 
 * * * " The truth is, all my leisure moments have of late been 
 so entirely engrossed in putting together the memoir I have 
 undertaken to write of Constable, that I have scarcely been able 
 to take up a pen for any other purpose. If I live to get through 
 it, I will never write anything of the kind again. * * * Tell 
 Sully I have seen the present he sent to Mr. Rogers of the 
 Queen's portrait. We dined with the old gentleman lately. 
 Moore, the poet, and his wife and son were there, and a large 
 party, to whom the picture was shown. Mr. Rogers remarked 
 how singular it was that he should receive the portrait of the 
 Queen of England from America, and painted by an American.* 
 
 " I undeceived him, however, as to the last circumstance. I 
 fear you will think the practice I have lately had in writing, has 
 not improved my hand ; but the truth is, I am thoroughly tired 
 of pen, ink, and paper. 
 
 * Mr. Sully was an Englishman. 
 
318 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1840. 
 
 " Tell Eliza I think it is very kind of her that she ever writes 
 to me now she is an authoress." 
 
 The following letter is of interest for its estimate of books and 
 men : — 
 
 London, July 18(h, 1840. 
 
 Dear Eliza, — For once I will answer a letter on the day of 
 receiving it. I wish I could always do so, it would save me 
 from many perplexities. Yours of the loth June has this mo- 
 ment reached me, and I am much gratified by the good account 
 you give of yourself, and the very delightful one of Tom's 
 family. * * * 
 
 There is not a man in the world I respect more than I do my 
 only brother. Having such a brother, how can you call Uncle 
 Toby " an old goose. " To my mind Uncle Toby is the most per- 
 fect specimen of a Christian gentleman that ever existed, for I 
 don't like to doubt that he has existed. Sir Charles Grandison 
 is not to be compared to him. Mr. Shandy, an admirably drawn 
 character also, is cleverer than Uncle Toby, but " My Uncle " is 
 the wisest man. But you ladies always prefer scamps if they 
 have talent, to good men who are not so brilliant ; Lord Byron 
 was a prodigious favourite with the ladies. And you really seem 
 to think I could go to Paris to see the arrival of the remains of 
 Bonaparte ; I would not walk across the street for it. He was 
 certainly a man of genius, but an entirely selfish person. Had 1 
 remained in America, I would have made a pilgrimage to the 
 tomb of Washington, whom even the profligate Byron could not 
 help eulogising — 
 
 " And left the name of Washington 
 To show the world there was but one." 
 
 (I quote from memory.) And on consideration I admire you for 
 the constancy of your attachment to Napoleon, for I recollect 
 when we were children we used to make you very angry by say- 
 ing that " Bonaparte was Betsy's beau." After all, I must say 
 ladies are always admirers of genius in men, and not being men, 
 they do not know how bad bad men are. Lady Byron thought 
 
1840.1 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 319 
 
 she could reform her Lord, poor simpleton ! Bonaparte's heart- 
 less conduct to Josephine ought to damn him with the sex ; but 
 no, he was a brilliant and successful soldier! Yet, I think it 
 would not be difficult to prove that Washington displayed more 
 military talent in contending with the well disciplined soldiers of 
 England, so badly supported as he was by the Congress, and with 
 an army of raw recruits who left him every few months to return 
 to their farms. It is a mistake to suppose that there was much 
 national enthusiasm among the American private soldiers. It 
 was their leaders only that felt it. While I was at West Point, 
 I read the life of Washington, and could not help contrasting him 
 with Bonaparte, who began his career at the head of the best 
 soldiers then in the world, made so for him by the revolutionary 
 generals who had preceded him. His great triumphs were 
 obtained over Germans and Italians, but he never faced the 
 English, as Washington did, till Waterloo. But from these great 
 heroes I must digress to myself. 
 
 I am very busy with a picture of Fairlop Fair, and am painting 
 landscape a good deal out of doors, in most delicious weather — 
 the most delightful of all employments to an artist. Harriet and 
 the children are all well. My Reminiscences go on ; but I never 
 proposed to Edward Carey to publish them. I shall leave them 
 as a legacy to my children, and never meant anything else. It 
 was the memoirs of my friend Constable I spoke about, which, 
 with the materials I have, I do not hesitate to say I shall make 
 the most interesting life of an artist that has ever appeared. 
 
 I received six hundred guineas for the Queen's picture. This 
 was the price fixed by myself, and which I had previously named 
 to the gentleman I was to paint it for, before she expressed a wish 
 to have it. I did not think it right to ask the Queen more. Never 
 was sovereign who spent royal money in a way more creditable to 
 the spender than she does, and this is great praise. In a former 
 letter you spoke of coming to England ; I hope this is true. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 C. R. L. 
 
 Here is a pleasant picture of a painter's holiday : — 
 
320 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1841. 
 
 Broadstairs, August 17th, 1840. 
 
 My Dear Anne, — I owe you a letter, and may not soon 
 have a better opportunity of paying the debt than at this place, 
 where I have been idling for the last week. Harriet has been 
 here longer with the four eldest children, and now we are all to- 
 gether in a little cottage on the cliff, which commands a fine 
 view of the sea and harbour. A month or six weeks here will, 
 I trust, do all the children a great deal of good, and they all now 
 look much the better for being here. Robert, who has grown 
 nearly as tall as I am, and still retains his fondness for every- 
 thing marine, handles the oar very well, and we often indulge him 
 with a boat, though never without a boatman with him. He is 
 also learning to swim. I tried at first to teach him, but being an 
 indifferent swimmer myself, he did not get on. He has had one 
 lesson from a boatman, and with one or two more, I dare say he 
 will swim pretty well. You know the Isle of Thanet is a very fine 
 farming country. When I first came the corn-fields were in all 
 their glory, and the harvest was going on. Nothing can be more 
 beautiful than many of the villages in the neighbourhood. On 
 the 23rd, the time for which we have hired this little cottage will 
 expire, and we shall then return to town. I shall have been 
 here a fortnight, and the rest of the party six weeks. I shall 
 then, I hope, soon complete my picture of ' Fairlop Fair,' for 
 which I have been making some sketches even here, as there 
 are abundance of donkeys here, and still more at Ramsgate, and 
 there is a family of gipsies encamped in a lane not far from us. 
 
 1841. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 {Exhibited.) 
 
 Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme. 
 
 M. Jourdain. ■ " Tout beau. 
 
 Ho)a! Ho! Doucement! 
 
 Diantre soit la coquine ! 
 Nicole. Vous me dites de pousser. 
 
 M, Jourdain. Oui — Mais tu me pousses en tierce avant que de 
 pousser en quarte, et tu n'a pas la patience que je 
 pare." Act ii. Scene 3. 
 
1841.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 321 
 
 (Painted for J. Sheepshanks, Esq., and in the National Collection, and 
 repeated twice; once for Lord Holland; the second repetition is in the pos- 
 session of Joseph Gillott, Esq.) 
 Fairlop Fair. (Painted for the Duke of Norfolk.) 
 
 The Library at Holland House, with Portraits. (Painted for Lord 
 Holland and engraved.) 
 
 (Not exhibited.) 
 
 Lucretia. — A Study for the Queen in her Coronation Robes. (Both 
 in the National Collection.) — The First Lesson,* from a design by 
 Raffaelle. (Painted first for Mr. Rogei's, and now in the possession of 
 Thos, Miller, Esq.; subsequently twice repeated * and engraved.) — The 
 Queen in her Coronation Robes. (In the National Collection.) 
 
 Leslie was hard at work this year on ' The Christening of the 
 Princess Royal.' 
 
 If, as one of the earlier passages in the following letter to his 
 sister says, " he was trying to grow rich," the latter part shows 
 some of the motives he had for it. Separated as he now was for 
 life from his brothers and sisters at Philadelphia, his heart clave 
 to them as closely as ever. 
 
 London, July 15, 1841. 
 
 My Dear Anne, — I am very many letters in debt to you, 
 but never have I had so little time to myself as this spring and 
 summer. I have, for the last two months, been painting every 
 day from home on the picture of the i Christening,' and, anxious 
 to make the most of the long days, I am occupied from nine in 
 the morning till seven or eight in the evening, and after that I 
 have generally notes on business to answer, which take up all 
 the evening. To tell you the truth, I am trying to grow rich. 
 
 I have now a few words to say on a subject of great impor- 
 tance to you and to me. I have long, dear Anne, regretted that 
 you should be under the necessity of receiving that assistance 
 from Henry Carey which it is my duty, as it will in future be my 
 pleasure, to give you, and which, if my health is spared me, and 
 my time not interrupted, I trust I shall be able to continue. I 
 have sent fifty pounds to Henry for your use ; and wish to know 
 what your expenses per annum will be at a boarding-house, as I 
 suppose it will not be so convenient to Henry and Patty that you 
 
 * A third repetition painted on the etching was sold at the sale of Leslie's 
 sketches and studies. 
 
 21 
 
322 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1841. 
 
 should continue to live with them after Virginia's marriage, who 
 T learn will remain with her husband in their house. 
 
 Mr. Dickens, on starting for America in December of this 
 year, carried to Irving this letter from his old friend, touching on 
 Time's changes, since those merry struggling days of Buckingham 
 Court. 
 
 12, Pine Apple Place, Edgeware Road, 
 Dec. 31st, 1841. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — Mr. Dickens tells me you urged him to 
 become acquainted with me, for which I now send you, by him, 
 my thanks, and every good wish of this wishing season. I have 
 long wanted to write to you: but of what can I write? My 
 present circle of friends are most of them unknown to you. Of 
 all our old cronies in by-gone days, Peter Powell is the only one 
 left, and he is living at Clapham, and I see him less frequently 
 than I wish. But he is the same merry, amusing, light-hearted, 
 discontented little Radical that you remember him. My wife, 
 who sends her best regards and good wishes to you, is (I think) 
 very little altered in appearance since you saw her. She looks 
 more like the sister than the mother of her elder children. 
 Robert is now six feet high, and I am anxiously looking out for 
 some employment for him for life ; no very easy matter to find. 
 I am growing grey, and am still forming better plans and resolu- 
 tions for the future than I can adhere to. This has been a sad 
 year for the Arts. The loss of Wilkie and Chantrey seem, with 
 our present prospects, not likely to be soon supplied. Chantrey's 
 death was not unexpected, as he had been for some time evidently 
 declining. But the death of dear Wilkie was entirely so. Had 
 he remained in England, it is believed we should still have had 
 him with us, and probably for many years. A few days ago, I 
 saw the last oil picture he touched. It is a small whole-length 
 portrait of Mehemet Ali ; somewhat sketchy, but beautifully 
 painted. The head full of life and character, and with that sort 
 of expression which carries the conviction of its being a likeness. 
 It is dated the 11th of May, and he died the 1st of June. I well 
 know how you must have felt on hearing the sad news. At a 
 
]842.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 323 
 
 meeting of his friends for the purpose of devising the best method 
 of doing honour to his memory, and at which Sir Robert Peel 
 presided, Lord Mahon spoke of the great pleasure he had en- 
 joyed in Wilkie's society and yours, when he met you together 
 in Spain. My chief object in writing is to induce you to do the 
 same. Yours ever truly, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 New York. 
 
 1842. 
 
 Pictures of the Tear. 
 
 Scene from Twelfth Night. 
 
 Sir Toby. — "Accost, Sir Andrew, Accost! " 
 
 Sir Andrew. — " What's that? " 
 
 Sir Toby. — " My niece's chambermaid." 
 
 Sir Andrew. — " Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance." 
 
 Act. i. Scene 3. 
 
 Painted for Thomas Baring, Esq., but repeated for Edwin Bullock, Esq., 
 Hands worth, near Birmingham.) 
 Scene from Henry the Eighth. 
 
 (Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the National Collection. 
 Repetition of diploma picture.) 
 
 Queen Kath. — " Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles: 
 Sing, and disperse them, if tttou canst: leave working." 
 
 Act iii. Scene 1. 
 
 The Christening of the Princess Royal was still in progress. 
 
 Leslie's i Life of Constable' was published this year. Dickens 
 returned from America, where he had seen the members of Les- 
 lie's family ; and Robert Leslie, whose passion was for the sea 
 and a sailor's life, sailed for New York in September with his 
 father's old friend, Captain Morgan. Robert Leslie's pictures of 
 nautical incidents are distinguished by great originality and truth. 
 Indeed, I believe they are the only truthful pictures ever painted 
 from sailor-life aboard ship. It is a matter of regret that he has 
 now abandoned the profession of a painter. This year, too, 
 Washington Irving was once more in London. 
 
 Leslie writes to his sister (Feb. 8, 1842) — 
 
324 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 1842. 
 
 * * * " My picture of the ' Christening ' is not yet finished. 
 I am chiefly waiting for the Queen Dowager, who has been at the 
 point of death. But as she is recovered, and is now in London, 
 I hope soon to have a sitting. 
 
 " You will be pleased to hear that poor Miss Wilkie, in the 
 deep affliction she suffered from the death of her brother, first de- 
 rived amusement from one of your books. She was staying with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Collins, who are great admirers of all your writ- 
 ings, and I think it was ' Mrs. Washington Potts ' which, when 
 they read it aloud, first drew a smile from Miss Wilkie. 
 
 " I have lately painted a small picture from 4 Twelfth Night,' 
 of three figures — ' Accost, Sir Andrew, accost ! ' " 
 
 He writes to Miss Anne Leslie, (May 11, 1842) — 
 
 " Washington Irving is now in London, and looking uncom- 
 monly well. He is in the greatest possible demand, and I con- 
 sider myself lucky in having seen him three times. To-day he 
 has promised to call here to see my picture of the i Christening.' 
 Yesterday we met him at Murray's at dinner. Tom Moore was 
 there, and Lockhart. Moore sang half-a-dozen of his own melo- 
 dies as delightfully as ever. One, of which the air is extremely 
 beautiful, ' Come o'er the sea, maiden to me,' he encored himself in, 
 and sang it better the second time than the first. The ladies 
 were in raptures. 
 
 And on July 30, 1842, he tells the same sister — 
 
 " I have advanced very far in a large picture from the ' Vicar 
 of Wakefield.' The ' Fudge ' scene. It has fifteen figures. 
 ' The Christening ' goes on slowly. I will send you a copy of 
 the ' Life of Constable ' when it is ready ; and as I get that off 
 my hands I hope to be a better correspondent." 
 
1843.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 325 
 
 1843. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 Portrait of Benjamin Travers, Esq., F.R.S. 
 
 The Queen Receiving the Sacrament (the concluding part of the cere- 
 mony of Her Majesty's Coi'onation) on the 28th June, 1838. 
 
 " The picture represents Her Majesty habited in the Dalmatic Mantle 
 (the Coronation Robe), having taken off the Crown on approaching the 
 altar, and wearing no jewels. The peers and peeresses, who had worn 
 their coronets from the moment in which the Queen was crowned, have 
 now put them off. The Sacrament is administered by the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury, assisted by the Rev. Lord John Thynne, in the absence 
 of the Dean of Westminster. On the farthest side of the altar is the 
 Lord Chamberlain (the Marquis of Conyngham) and the Bishop of Lon- 
 don. The Sword of State is borne by Viscount Melbourne, near whom 
 are the Duke of Wellington and the Duke of Sutherland. The Crown is 
 held by the Lord Great Chamberlain (Lord Willoughby D'Eresby), next 
 to whom is the Earl Marshall (the late Duke of Norfolk). Under the 
 lower canopy are seated the ladies of the Royal Family. Nearest Her 
 Majesty is the late Princess Augusta, attended by Lady Mary Pelham ; 
 the Princess Augusta of Cambridge, attended by the Hon. Miss Kerr; 
 the Princess Hohenloe and the Duchess of Kent, attended by Lady Flora 
 Hastings and Viscount Morpeth. The other ladies and gentlemen in 
 attendance under the canopy, are the Ladies Caroline Campbell and 
 Caroline Legge, and Viscounts Villiers and Emlen. Immediately behind 
 the Queen are the Mistress of the Robes (the Duchess of Sutherland) 
 and Lady Barham (Lady in Waiting). In therforeground are five of the 
 eight young ladies who bore the Queen's train, namely, the Ladies Caro- 
 line Lennox, Adelaide Paget, Fanny Cowper, Wilhelmina Stanhope, and 
 Mary Grimston. Beyond the Coronation chair are the Duke de Nemours 
 and Prince George of Cambridge, and behind it are the Dukes of Sussex 
 and Cambridge, the Duke of Coburgh, Prince Ernest of Phillipstahl, the 
 late Duke of Argyll, and two Pages of Honour (the Marquis of Stafford 
 and Lord Mount Charles)." 
 
 Scene from " The Vicar of Wakefield." 
 
 " Virtue, my dear Lady Blarney, virtue is worth any price ; but where 
 is that to be found? Fudge! " Chap. 11. 
 
 (Now in the Collection of Thomas Miller, Esq., Preston.) 
 
 Portrait of Henry Angelo, Esq. 
 
 Scene from Moliere. 
 
 31. Purgon. J'ai a vous dire que je vous abandonne a votre mauvaise 
 constitution, a l'intemperie de vos entrailles, a la corruption de votre 
 sang, a Faci-etC de votre bile, et a la feculence de vos humeurs. 
 Toinette. C'est fort bien fait. 
 
326 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1843. 
 
 Argan. Mon Dieu! 
 
 M. Purgon. Et je v<3ux qu'avant qu'il soit quatre jours vous deveniez 
 dans un £tat incurable. 
 Argan. Ah! mistMcorde ! 
 
 Le Malade Imaginaire, Act iii. Scene 6. 
 (Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the National Col- 
 lection. 
 
 This year Leslie made his first attempt at fresco, in the garden- 
 house of Buckingham Palace, as he details in this letter to his 
 sister. 
 
 " London, July 28, 1843. 
 
 " I have been very busy painting a fresco, a first attempt, in a 
 little pavilion in the gardens of Buckingham Palace. I leave 
 home every morning at eight or nine, and do not return till seven 
 in the evening. I am now writing before breakfast. I was 
 asked to do this by the Prince, and there are seven other artists 
 engaged in the same way — Maclise, Landseer, Sir Charles Ross, 
 Stanfield, Uwins, Etty, and Eastlake. 
 
 " Two or three of us are generally there together, and the 
 Queen and Prince visit us daily, and sometimes twice a day, and 
 take a great interest in what is going on. I hope to finish in a 
 day or two. The subjects are all from Milton's ' Comus,' and 
 mine is Comus offering the cup to the lady." 
 
 TO MISS ANNE LESLIE. 
 
 August 18, 1843. 
 
 I have sent by Captain Morgan a few engravings — an 
 archbishop and a judge * for you — as you are a portrait painter. 
 The archbishop is not handsome, but I think you will like his 
 expression. He is one of the most agreeable and amiable men I 
 ever met with. 
 
 The window in the picture of the archbishop is that of his 
 library at Lambeth Palace. I like to paint people in their own 
 houses, and with their own rooms for the background ; and I 
 think you may find it both a popular and useful mode of painting 
 portraits when you can do so. 
 
 * Archbishop Howley, and Lord Chancellor Cottenham. 
 
1844.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 327 
 
 1844. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Scene from Comus. 
 
 " Hence, with thy brew'd enchantments, foul deceiver." 
 (Now in the collection of John Nay lor, Esq., Leigh ton Hall.) 
 Sancho Panza in the Apartment of the Duchess. 
 
 Don Quixote, Part ii. Chap. 33. 
 (Painted for Robert Vernon, Esq., and now in the National* Collec- 
 tion. A repetition of the Petworth picture. Not exhibited.) 
 Lucy Pp;rcy (Lady Carlisle) Bringing the Pardon to her Father the 
 Earl of Northumberland in the Tower. (Painted for Lord 
 Leconfield, and now at Petworth.) 
 Portrait of Miss Burdett Coutts. 
 Christ and his Disciples at Capernaum. 
 
 1. " At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus, saying, Who is 
 the greatest in the kingdom of heaven? 
 
 2. " And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst 
 of them, 
 
 3. " And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and 
 become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heav- 
 en." Matthew xviii. 1-3. 
 
 (Painted for J. Lennox, Esq., New York.) 
 
 This year Leslie was one of the hanging committee at the 
 Academy. That harassing and thankless office discharged, he 
 gave himself, for the first time since his visit to Paris in 1817, 
 the pleasure of a continental tour. In company with Mrs. Leslie, 
 her sister-in-law, Mrs. Samuel Stone, and Mr. Dunlop's niece, 
 Miss Gamble, he visited Belgium, from Ostend, by Bruges, Ghent, 
 Brussels, Mechlin, Liege, Aix-la-Chapelle, and Cologne; thence to 
 Bonn, and by the Rhine to Mayence ; thence down the river to 
 Dusseldorf, and through Utrecht to Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and 
 Antwerp, where the party took steam for London. 
 
 His letters to his children, his sisters, and his friends the Cha- 
 lons, give his impressions of the tour, which to Leslie, with his 
 especial love of Flemish and Dutch art, was replete with instruc- 
 tion and interest. 
 
 * See my Introductory Essay. — Ed. 
 
328 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1844. 
 
 Brussels, May lith, 1844. 
 
 My Dear Harriet, — Your mamma and I have greatly 
 enjoyed our excursion so far, much more even than we expected ; 
 and could we be sure that you are all well and happy at home, 
 we should be perfectly happy. Your mamma is so delighted 
 with the solemn music and splendid ceremonies in the churches 
 here, that I am almost afraid she will turn Roman Catholic. In- 
 deed, though there are many things trifling, and some things that 
 appear to us ridiculous, yet there is so much that is truly solemn 
 and devotional, so much to delight the eye and ear, and the priests 
 and people appear so sincere in their manner, that I am sure no- 
 body who has any sense of religion at all can help being deeply 
 affected in their churches. I could spend the whole day listening 
 to the music, which is the grandest I ever heard. We are partic- 
 ularly fortunate in being here in this month, which is devoted to 
 services in honour of the Virgin ; and in all the churches the 
 image is placed over the principal altar, and over her canopies, 
 sometimes fantastical, but often very superb. She is dressed in 
 the most costly materials, and has a crown of silver on her head, 
 and so has the infant in her arms, who holds a long silver cross, 
 the lower end of which is a spear which pierces the head of a 
 green dragon under the feet of the Virgin. Over the Virgin's 
 head is a large halo of silver stars. How much dear little Polly 
 would be delighted with all this ! At Bruges, during one part of 
 the service, the image of the Virgin was carried round the church 
 in a procession of priests in the richest dresses, with boys in 
 white swinging censers of incense up in the air, while the music 
 and chanting were most impressive. The organ is accompanied 
 by other instruments. Some of the priests play on enormous 
 brass trombones, the notes of which are of the deepest bass, while 
 in the organ-loft there are fiddles and violoncellos. I never heard 
 anything at the opera that seemed to me so fine. 
 
 We have had delightful weather though cool, but that is the 
 better for walking about. Yesterday afternoon we drove three 
 miles out of Brussels in an open carriage to Laeken, the palace 
 of Leopold. As he is at present there we could only see the 
 outside, which is very handsome. The gates in front are magnif- 
 
1844.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 329 
 
 icent, and reminded us of the gates at Hampton Court. Near it 
 is a small palace that was the residence of the present King of 
 Holland when he was Prince of Orange. His father, when King 
 of this country, used to walk from Laeken every day to Brussels 
 quite unattended. It is said that one day he helped up an old 
 woman who was coming to market, and had fallen from her horse 
 or donkey. She did not know who he was, but on his giving her 
 some money, it was so much more than she supposed anybody less 
 than a king could give, that she guessed who he was. 
 
 We have not yet seen many first-rate pictures, and it will be 
 some time before we do, as we propose going to Cologne and up 
 the Rhine to Frankfort before we visit Holland and Antwerp. 
 Those places will be last, but I am sure not least with me. But 
 I will now give my pen to your mamma. 
 
 In a letter to Robert from Bruges, after giving an account of 
 the voyage, in compliment to his son's passion for the sea, he 
 goes on to say — 
 
 "Everything is new, strange, and amusing, though the appear- 
 ance of many things in the country, in the villages we have 
 passed through, and in this place, remind me of the Dutch and 
 Flemish pictures. Your mamma and I are constantly reminded 
 by the looks, and even the dress of the little chubby children in 
 the streets, of the children in Jan Steen's pictures." 
 
 Frankfort, May 22nd, 1844. 
 
 Dear John and Alfred Chalon, — I must indulge myself 
 in writing to you, though I am far from sure my letter will be 
 worth the postage. When I left home I did not suppose I should 
 have reached this place, but the facilities of travelling and the 
 pleasant weather have enticed us on. We turn back, however, 
 to-morrow, and hope to be in London the beginning of June. 
 
 The scenery of the Rhine has not disappointed me. The 
 rocks, castles, and towns are very picturesque, but I must say, 
 the vineyards are by no means ornamental. 
 
 It is all very well for a poet to speak of, 
 
 " The vine-clad steeps 
 
330 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1844. 
 
 but to the eye, at the distance from which they are seen from the 
 steam-boat, those parts of the hills that are accessible to cultiva- 
 tion, look as if covered by enormous threadbare carpets, a pale 
 green pattern on a drab ground. Besides this, there are innu- 
 merable low walls, built in rows, one above the other, like steps, 
 to keep the earth from slipping down. I have no doubt but that 
 the scenery was far more beautiful before the vine was intro- 
 duced. 
 
 We were delighted with the towns we have seen in Belgium ; 
 Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, Mechlin, and Liege. Antwerp we ex- 
 pect to see on our way back. 
 
 We were particularly fortunate in being in Belgium this 
 month, in which there are some peculiar services performed in 
 the churches in honour of the Virgin. In consequence of this, 
 we have seen much that was magnificent mixed up with a good 
 deal that seemed to us childish and theatrical ; but the music was 
 sublime. 
 
 At Cologne we were greatly interested in what we saw going 
 on at the Cathedral. It has never been more than half finished, 
 and the King of Prussia has determined to complete it. For this 
 purpose, four hundred workmen are constantly employed, and it 
 is supposed that it will be many years before it is finished. 
 
 It seems that the original plan, as far as it is indicated, will be 
 closely adhered to. The style of ornament, which is exceedingly 
 rich, is exactly followed in what is already done of the new part. 
 In the interior, I saw something that looked like a large square 
 band-box, suspended against the wall, at a great height, in which 
 an artist of Frankfort, of the name of Steinle, was at work, paint- 
 ing a figure of a large earthenware angel in fresco, — one of a 
 series filling the spaces above some lofty arches of this form. 
 The figures that were finished, were well composed and graceful, 
 but wretchedly coloured. 
 
 At Bonn, in the hall of the college in which Prince Albert was 
 educated, we saw three large frescoes by a pupil of Cornelius, — 
 very poor imitations of Raphael. 
 
 To-day we have seen some oil pictures by Lessing, Overbeck, 
 and others, of which I like Lessing's the best. In the Museum 
 where these are, are some modern landscapes, and a large sea 
 
1844.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 331 
 
 piece (a storm), — detestable. But to make amends for these, 
 the same collection contains some fine works of the early Flem- 
 ish masters, particularly a series of very small pictures by Van 
 Eyck, of the history of John the Baptist, which, though hard in 
 their outlines, and quaint in the costume, are perfectly exquisite 
 in colour, and as fresh, and bright, and rich, as if painted but 
 yesterday. 
 
 There was also a small Jan Steen, which, in comparison with 
 the modern German pictures, looked like silver compared with 
 mud. 
 
 Our intention is to call at Amsterdam and the Hague on our . 
 return, where I expect to be much delighted. 
 I am, my dear friends, 
 
 Yours ever truly, 
 
 C. R. Leslie. 
 
 The autumn was spent by the painter in London, after leaving 
 his family at Bembridge, in the Isle of Wight. His friend Cap- 
 tain Morgan took them round in his ship, the ' Victoria,' to Ports- 
 mouth. He writes to his sister, Miss Leslie, from on board the 
 ship. 
 
 (Aug. 20.) 
 
 " I wrote Patty some account of our trip on the Continent, 
 which we greatly enjoyed. We saw a great deal in a short time, 
 and I am now quite satisfied to remain in England for the rest of 
 my life. As I grow older, I feel less disposed to encounter the 
 fatigue of travelling. I may possibly, when I can afford it, take a 
 peep at Paris again ; but I do not think I shall ever get so far as 
 Italy, that country which everybody says every artist should see." 
 
 (Aug. 29, 1844.) 
 
 "Will you tell Edward Carey, in answer to his inquiry, 
 that the price of ' Comus ' * is 250 guineas without a frame. 
 Should it go to America, I would rather send it with no frame, as 
 the picture I took with me, of * Martha and Mary,' was injured 
 by an ornament of the frame becoming loose, and I have seen a 
 * The picture is now in the collection of John Naylor, Esq. — Ed. 
 
332 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1845-6. 
 
 picture of Wilkie's very much injured in the same way. The 
 price I have named is not more than half the price I should ask 
 for a picture of the size of ' Comus,' painted under other circum- 
 stances than that was. Being for a fresco, it is painted in a 
 bolder manner, and more calculated for distance than if I had 
 painted it with no such purpose. I am unable to get Mr. Lenox's 
 picture done in time for the Captain, but hope very soon to send 
 it," 
 
 1845. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 The Heiress. (Painted for E. Bicknell, Esq.) 
 Scene from Mouere. 
 
 Trissotin. — Sonnet a la Princesse Uranie sur sa Fievre. 
 Votre prudence est endormie, 
 De traiter magnifiquement, 
 Et de loger superbement, 
 Votre plus cruelle ennemie. 
 Belise. — Ah ! le joli debut ! 
 
 Armande. — Quil a le tour galant! 
 
 Pluhuninte. — Lui seul, des vers ais^s possede le talent, 
 
 Les Femmes Savantes, Acte iii. Scene 2. 
 (Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq., and now in the National Collection.) 
 
 1846. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Scene from " Roderick Random." 
 
 At length the important hour arrived, and the will was produced in the 
 midst of the expectants, who formed a group whose looks and gestures 
 would have been very entertaining to an unconcerned spectator. But the 
 reader can scarce conceive the astonishment and mortification that ap- 
 peared, when an attorney pi-onounced aloud the young squire sole heir of all 
 his grandfather's estate, personal and real. My uncle, who had listened with 
 great attention, sucking the head of his cudgel all the while, accompanied 
 these words of the attorney with a stare and a whew that alarmed the whole 
 assembly. The oldest and pertest of my female competitors, who had al- 
 ways been very officious about my grandfather's person, inquired with a 
 faltering accent, and visage as yellow as an orange, if there were no lega- 
 cies? and was answered "None at all;" upon which she fainted away. 
 The rest, whose expectations (perhaps) were not so sanguine, supported 
 
1846.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 333 
 
 their disappointment with more resolution, though not without giving evi- 
 dent marks of indignation, and grief at least as genuine as that which ap- 
 peared in them at the old gentleman's death. My conductor, after having 
 kicked with his heel for some time against the wainscot, began, " So, there's 
 no legacy, friend. Ha! here's an old succubus. But somebody's soul 
 howls for it, d— n me." — Chap. IV. (Painted for John Gibbons, Esq. 
 A smaller repetition was painted for Thomas Miller, Esq., Preston, in 
 1856.) 
 
 Mother and Child. (Painted for John Gibbons, Esq., engraved by J. H. 
 
 Robson, A.R.A. Repetition painted for James Lenox, Esq., New York.) 
 Portrait of Charles Dickens, Esq., in the character of Captain Bobadil. 
 (Engraved.) 
 
 " A gentleman! Odso, I am not within." 
 
 Every Man in his Humour, Act i. Scene 5. 
 
 The correspondence of this year is of purely family matters, 
 and exhibits Leslie now, as always, in the character of the most 
 affectionate, generous, and thoughtful of brothers. The delicate 
 health of his sister, Mrs. Carey, was a source of great anxiety to 
 him, and his letters are filled with suggestions and advice as to 
 her case. His second sister, Anne, too, had just lost the situation 
 of mistress of drawing, which she held at Rutger's Institute, in 
 New York ; and her brother was ready with the help of his 
 counsel and his purse. The only passage bearing immediately 
 on the painter's work occurs in the following letter. The picture 
 referred to is now at Petworth. 
 
 {Oct. 7, 1846.) 
 
 " The picture I have just finished is from a true story in the 
 reign of James I. The Earl of Northumberland was imprisoned 
 in the Tower for fifteen years, on suspicion of being concerned in 
 the Gunpowder Plot. He spent his time in scientific pursuits, 
 with some of the most learned men of the time, who constantly 
 visited him, and Sir Walter Raleigh, who was at the same time a 
 prisoner. His youngest daughter, Lady Lucy Percy, had mar- 
 ried the Earl of Carlisle, a man her father greatly disliked, and 
 to make her peace with him, her husband, who was one of 
 James's favourites, procured his pardon. The picture represents 
 the lady bringing the pardon to her father, while engaged with his 
 literary friends in study. It was begun many years ago for Lord 
 Egremont, who was descended, by the female line, from the Earls 
 
334 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1847. 
 
 of Northumberland, but I laid it aside at his lordship's death, and 
 I have now just finished it at the request of Colonel Wyndham, 
 the present possessor of Petworth." 
 
 Washington Irving was in London in August this year, but 
 unluckily Leslie and he missed seeing each other, owing to Les- 
 lie's absence from town for a few days with his family, on a trip 
 round to Portsmouth in the liner commanded by his friend, Cap- 
 tain Morgan. 
 
 " 12, Pine Apple Place, Edgewaee Road, 
 "Aug. 20th, 1846. 
 
 " I wish," he writes to Irving, " it would please the American 
 government and yourself that you should be minister here. You 
 will not suspect me of meaning a compliment when I say what 
 you must know very well yourself, that no other man would be 
 anything like so popular in England. I had been looking for 
 you every day since May, when you said you should probably be 
 here, and it is very provoking to have missed you at last. I was 
 to have let Father Luke know of your arrival, and we were to 
 have dined with him. Are you in such a hurry that you can't 
 come back to London for a few days ? I wish you could, and 
 could spend them here ; for we can give you a bed, and nothing 
 would give us greater pleasure." 
 
 1847. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Martha and Mary. ( A repetition of the picture painted for Mr. Dunlop in 
 
 1833. Now in the collection of Edwin Bullock, Esq., Handsworth, near 
 
 Birmingham.) 
 The Pharisee and the Publican. 
 
 " And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his 
 
 eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to 
 
 me, a sinner." — Luke, xviii. 13. 
 
 (Painted for James Lenox, Esq., New York.) 
 Children Playing at Coach and Horses. Not exhibited. (Painted for 
 
 Sir Robert Wigram. Repeated for Thos. Miller, Esq.)— The Lady in 
 
 Comus, (in the possession of John Heugh, Esq.) — Portrait of Captain 
 
 E. E. Morgan. 
 
 The following passage from a letter of this year, is interesting 
 
1847.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 335 
 
 for its reference to his son Robert's picture, which will be re- 
 membered by many of my readers in the Exhibition of this year, 
 as fully bearing out all Leslie says of it. There was an indi- 
 viduality and truthfulness in Robert Leslie's pictures from sea- 
 faring life which gave them a special value, and justify my regret 
 that he should have abandoned the profession of a painter. The 
 letter shows, too, how full of commissions Leslie's hands were at 
 this time. Every picture he painted was eagerly bought, and had 
 the painter received one-half of the prices which have subse- 
 quently been realised by his pictures, in the changes of hand 
 undergone by so many of the galleries collected by the new class 
 of patrons — the enriched manufacturers — he would have died a 
 very wealthy man. As it was, he was so slow and scrupulous, 
 even to fastidiousness, in his work, and so moderate in his prices, 
 that, popular as he was, his income, when at its highest, was but 
 a modest one. From his letters there always peeps a rigid spirit 
 of economy, in all that relates to pleasure or luxury. It is 
 noticeable in the little details of the visit he paid to Paris this 
 year, in company with his daughters Harriet and Mary. 
 
 " London, April 16, 1847. 
 
 " Robert's last work is a picture of figures, the grouping, &c, 
 entirely his own, and nothing can be better than the manner in 
 which he has told the story of a ship's crew coming aft in a body 
 to complain to the captain relative to their allowance of biscuit. 
 They are all the truest sailors that ever were painted, and entirely 
 free from anything vulgar, and the effect of the whole is true and 
 sunny. I hope it will attract notice in the Exhibition. 
 
 " I have sent three pictures to the R. A. : a repetition of the 
 ' Martha and Mary,' but varied, about the size of Colonel Per- 
 kins's picture ; a picture of four children playing at coach-and- 
 horses, painted for the Vice-Chancellor, Sir James Wigram ; and 
 a picture of the parable of the ' Pharisee and the Publican,' 
 which is for Mr. Lenox, and I therefore hope you will see it. 
 The pictures I am engaged to paint are, one for Mr. Bates, one 
 for Mr. Niewenhuys, one for Mr. Labouchere, M. P., one for 
 Lord Charles Townshend, one for Mr. John Harris (a stranger 
 to me), one for Mr. Gibbons (who has already five of my pic- 
 
336 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1847. 
 
 tures), one for a Mr. Vaughan, one for Mr. Sheepshanks, one 
 for Mr. Bicknell, two small ones for Sam Stone (who has bought 
 a picture of mine and two of Robert's), one for Mr. Colls, one for 
 Mr. Bullock, the owner of the 'Martha and Mary' (lately 
 painted), and one for Lady Chantrey (the widow of Sir Fran- 
 cis). 
 
 I mean to take care of my health, live regular, and not work 
 too hard ; but my late attack * told me in very plain terms that I 
 am growing old, and I try to make up my mind more and more 
 every day to be thankful for prolongation of life, and contented to 
 die whenever it may please God, knowing that that time, when- 
 ever it comes, must be the best time for me" 
 
 He tells his sister (May 31, 1847) — 
 
 * * * " You will be glad to hear that Robert has sold his ' 
 picture from ' Two Years before the Mast ' to Mr. Gibbons, the 
 possessor of my ' Roderick Random,' for one hundred guineas." 
 
 12, Pine Apple Place, Edgeware Road, 
 May 31, 1847. 
 
 My Dear Irving, — I have thought of making my next pic- 
 ture the interview between Columbus and the Queen of Portugal, 
 described in the fourth chapter of the fifth book of your ' Life of 
 Columbus,' and if you could kindly give me any hints to help me 
 in the composition, I shall feel greatly obliged. Can you tell me 
 why the Queen was at a monastery, and not with her husband — 
 what was her age, and from what history I can get particulars 
 that will be useful ? In short, any information you will take the 
 trouble to send me, will be very acceptable. 
 
 At the same time, tell me how you are, and when will your 
 
 4 Life of Washington ' appear, and when there is a chance of our 
 
 seeing you here again. 
 
 Washington Irving, Esq., 
 New York. 
 
 He writes to his wife from Paris — 
 
 * At the beginning of the year he had been confined to his room for three 
 weeks by palpitation of the heart. — Ed. 
 
1847.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 337 
 
 " Hotel des Tuileries, 
 
 " Rue de Rivoli, a Paris, 
 
 " Sept. 22nd, 1847. 
 
 " Dearest Harry, — It seems almost a sin for me to be en- 
 joying the delights with which we are surrounded without you. 
 But I hope we may be here some day together. Little Polly is 
 regularly admitted a student in the Louvre. How amused you 
 would be to see her sitting, in all her uprightness, on a high stool, 
 with her sketch-book in her hand, and her water-colours beside 
 her, before a most beautiful Terburgh, drawing, and rubbing out, 
 and not finding it possible to please herself, as usual. Yesterday 
 afternoon, we went to Franconi's, an immense place for horse- 
 riding, where the performances are in the open air, and in the 
 day time, the audience sitting under cover. We there saw a tour- 
 nament performed, which would have delighted dearest George 
 beyond measure. 
 
 * * *> * * * ' * * m 
 
 " On Sunday we heard mass in the church of St. Roch ; the 
 music very fine. We then went to Versailles along a most beau- 
 tiful road, from which we had a splendid view of Paris. We 
 dined at Versailles, and on our return, the girls being tired went 
 to bed, and I strolled out, ' a here-a and there-a.' Seeing a dim 
 light through the window of one of the old churches, I went in, 
 and heard some most exquisite music. There were no lights in 
 the church, except on the altar, which was covered with candles, 
 and the decorations all white. The priests were also in white, 
 and two women were singing, with a priest who sang the bass. 
 
 " I was so sorry Harriet was not with me, but, as we expect to 
 remain over next Sunday, I can take her. The girls are charmed 
 with the beautiful gardens, and the shops in the Palais Eoyal, 
 and the air is as pure, and fresh, and mild, as in the Isle of Wight ; 
 even the filth of the town, which is considerable, scarcely affects 
 it. But, there are so many large squares, wide streets, and public 
 gardens, that we are very little annoyed with smells. We live 
 next door to the King, and enjoy his garden much more than he 
 does himself. He is now at the Tuileries, but we have seen 
 nothing of him." 
 
 22 
 
338 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1847, 
 
 " Sept. 28rd, 1847. 
 
 " I don't know when I have felt so well as since I have been 
 in Paris, though I eat and drink things that I always avoid at 
 home. But the air is so delicious, and the amusements so 
 many, and, above all things, the Louvre is such a happiness 
 to me, that it seems impossible for me to be otherwise than 
 well here. 
 
 " The weather to-day is perfect, neither too hot nor cold ; ex- 
 actly the kind to walk about in. We have had but one rainy 
 day since we have been in France, and that did not keep us at 
 home, for there are so many arcades, and the Palais Royal, the 
 most amusing of places, has all the side walks covered. We 
 breakfast and dine there. 
 
 " We have not yet been to a theatre, excepting Franconi's 
 Hippodrome ; but I think we must go to one or two. The diffi- 
 culty is to choose among so many. 
 
 " I think we shall leave Paris about the middle of next week, 
 perhaps sooner. The expense of the trip I shall not regret ; it 
 has done, and seems to be doing, us all so much good. 
 
 " As for the pictures in the Louvre, tell Mr. Beales, I am the 
 most impressed with the two great ones by Paul Veronese. He 
 pleases me more than Rubens, though Rubens is very great here. 
 The 1 Marriage at Cana ' is glorious, and in an admirable state 
 of preservation. It is filled with the gayest and brightest colours, 
 yet all in exquisite harmony. The other, the subject of which is 
 ' Mary Magdalene washing the Feet of our Saviour,' is, I think, 
 in its general effect, the grandest of the two. It is more solemn 
 — indeed, there is nothing in the Louvre of Titian so impres- 
 sive in effect. There are two other pictures, by Paolo, very 
 fine. One is injured, by the sky having turned black ; the other, 
 the subject of which is ' Esther before Ahasuerus,' is inimitable, 
 but it is hung too high. I never saw fainting so well expressed as 
 in the Esther. The De Hooghe, of which the sketch hangs in 
 our bed-room, is here. It is fine, but I prefer the Queen's and 
 Sir Robert Peel's De Hooghes. Tell Bob, the Ruysdael, of 
 which he made a little sketch, is here. His sketch is very like it 
 in effect. Nicolas Poussin does not appear to great advantage in 
 
1848.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 339 
 
 his own country. There are very much finer pictures, by him, in 
 our National Gallery, than in the Louvre." 
 
 TO MISS ANNE LESLIE. 
 
 " Nov. 22, 1847. 
 
 " In September I spent a most delightful fortnight in Paris 
 with Harriet (the younger), and Mary. We had the finest of 
 weather (though some days rather cold), and enjoyed it to the 
 full ; and I think it did me great good. In a dozen letters I could 
 not describe all our enjoyments and amusements there. Harriet 
 will write to you and tell you something about it, as she has more 
 time than I. I must, however, tell you that, on our way back, we 
 spent a beautiful Sunday morning at Amiens, and heard High 
 Mass in the cathedral there, which surpasses everything, in archi- 
 tectural beauty, I saw in Belgium. The sun was shining bright 
 through the lofty windows, and the whole looked so light, so ele- 
 gant, and so sublime, as to seem scarcely the work of human 
 hands. I could fancy that a company of angels had been sent 
 down to build it, and that the exquisite music we were hearing, 
 proceeded from a party they had left behind them. 
 
 " 2Uh Nov. — Since I wrote this letter I have been elected 
 Professor of Painting to the Royal Academy, by a unanimous 
 vote. 
 
 " My business will be to deliver six lectures annually, which 
 will be rather an amusement than a trouble, and for which I shall 
 receive £60 — £10 for each lecture." 
 
 1848. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (157) Lady Jane Grey. 
 
 " Most gentle, most unfortunate, 
 Crowned but to die ; who in her chamber sate, 
 Musing with Plato, though the horn was blown, 
 And every ear and every heart was won, 
 And all in green array were chasing down the sun." — Rogers. 
 (In the possession of Thomas Miller, Esq., Preston.) 
 
340 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1848. 
 
 (162) The Shell. 
 
 " His countenance soon 
 Brightened with joy ; for murmurings from within 
 Were heard, sonorous cadences ! whereby, 
 To his belief, the monitor expressed 
 Mysterious union with his native sea." — Wordsworth. 
 (Painted for John Gibbons, Esq.) 
 
 The references to France, revolution, and the Napoleon dy- 
 nasty, with the remarks on the Exhibition as compared with the 
 exhibitions of Leslie's younger days, make the following letter to 
 Miss Anne Leslie, worth inserting. Never was a man by dispo- 
 sition less of a " laudator temporis acti " than Leslie. He appre- 
 ciated all new manifestations of excellence in his art, to a degree 
 very rare among old Academicians, and he was the first and 
 most generous among those of his own standing to recognise the 
 merit which gave value to the early works of the young Pre- 
 Raphaelite school. 
 
 " June lGth, 1848. 
 
 " We are not much afraid of a revolution here, though the 
 times are very critical, and the misery the French have spread 
 all over their own country, and indeed over the continent, will in 
 some degree affect England and America. France is infinitely 
 worse off than under the worst of her former governments, and 
 must suffer a great deal more before things come right with her. 
 
 " I dined yesterday at Holland House, where was Guizot. He 
 speaks English very well, and as I sat near him, I heard all he 
 said. His countenance, though intelligent, is not an inviting one. 
 He looks hard and severe. He has not laid aside his decorations, 
 but wore a red ribbon and one or two orders. The last time I 
 dined at Lord Holland's, Jerome Bonaparte and his son were 
 there. The son is extremely like Napoleon, and perfectly con- 
 scious of it. Jerome is not, neither is he like Joseph, who had 
 more the look of the Emperor. If there was now a Bonaparte 
 with the talents of Napoleon, he might have some chance with 
 the French ; but I have not heard that any of them possess more 
 than ordinary abilities." 
 
1848.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 341 
 
 " July 26, 1848. 
 
 " It is the fashion to say that every exhibition is better than 
 the last, a fashion I cannot fall into. I never expect to see again 
 such as I have seen, when we had Lawrence, Owen, Jackson, 
 Wilkie, and Constable. Turner sent nothing this year, and 
 talked of never exhibiting again. I hope, however, he will, 
 and often, for we can ill afford to lose him. 
 
 " I have sent to Tom and to Eliza impressions of an engraving 
 from a picture I painted of the library at Holland House. I for- 
 got whether you were ever in the house when you came here. 
 The present Lord Holland has made many alterations, and some 
 very great improvements there, but he has not yet touched the 
 library, and I hope he will not. I heard that he talked of recon- 
 verting it into a picture gallery, but I hope he will not, for it will 
 not make a good one without an expenditure that would almost 
 build a gallery. 
 
 " I have nearly finished my picture from Don Quixote, and 
 shall immediately begin one from Henry VIII., from which play 
 I am to paint a pair." 
 
 " 2, Abercorn Place, St. John's Wood, 
 " Nov. 22, 1848. 
 
 " My Dear Irving, — I received your letter by Mr. Putnam 
 (whom, however, I have not seen, as he had not time to call on 
 me), and have sent to him a pen sketch of ' Diedrich,' the slight- 
 ness of which you must excuse, as I am much engaged, and am 
 obliged to spare my eyes all I can, for they are failing me. I am 
 entirely out of practice in little things of this kind, and have no 
 doubt you will be able to have something done much more to 
 your mind in America. If so, pray throw it away without scru- 
 ple. 
 
 " I sent you a letter a short time ago by the hands of ' the 
 Dusty,' containing a letter I found in the ' London Magazine ' of 
 General Washington's, which seems to be genuine, and which I 
 thought you might not have seen. It shows that the General had 
 a sense of humour, and I believe no man of very great mind was 
 ever without it. Let me know whether you received it." 
 
342 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1849 
 
 1849. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited.) Scene from Henry VIII. 
 
 Wolsey. — " Here I'll make my royal choice." 
 King. — " You have found him, Cardinal." 
 
 Act i. Scene 4. 
 
 (Painted for I. K. Brunei, Esq., and sold at the sale of his gallery this 
 year for £960.) 
 
 (141) Scene from Don Quixote. — (Second part, Chapters 31 and 32.) 
 
 The Dake's chaplain, after attacking Don Quixote for his devotion to 
 knight errantry, and Sancho for his belief in his master, reprimands the 
 Duke for encouraging their fancies, and leaves the company in a passion. 
 (Painted for Joshua Bates, Esq.) 
 (Not exhibited.) The Necklace. (In the National Collection.) Repetition 
 — an oval with a locket — in the possession of Richard Newsham, Esq. — 
 Sophia Western. (Repeated.) — Lady with Scarlet Geranium in 
 her Hand. (Painted for C. Constable, Esq.) — Captain and Mrs. Mor- 
 gan and Children. (Painted for Captain E. E. Morgan, New York.) 
 
 His brother, Captain Leslie, had lost his wife. Leslie writes 
 to his sister on the occasion : — 
 
 " March 21th, 1849. 
 
 " I have been so incessantly occupied with my lectures at the 
 Academy, in addition to my regular occupations, that I have been 
 unable to write to you. The sad intelligence your last letter con- 
 tained, came on us quite by surprise. I had heard lately from Cap- 
 tain Morgan, that dear Tom and his family were quite well. I feel 
 a strong repugnance always to writing letters of condolence, and 
 have determined, therefore, for the present not to write to Tom ; 
 as, if I could see him, I should not speak to him on the subject 
 of his great loss, unless he spoke of it first to me. Give my 
 love and best wishes to him when you see him. I always look 
 on death as a calamity only to the survivor, for I am sure that 
 God takes us all whenever it is best for us. I shall exhibit two 
 pictures this season : a large one from ' Don Quixote,' painted for 
 Mr. Bates, and a small one, with many figures, from ' Henry 
 VIII.,' painted for Braddy's master, Mr. Brunei. Robert has 
 
1850.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 343 
 
 painted two views from the Isle of Jersey, which he visited last 
 summer. The last is his best picture, and I think he regularly 
 improves. I am now painting a scene from ' Tom Jones,' near 
 the close of the story. Tom is showing Sophia Western her own 
 face in a looking-glass as a pledge for his good behaviour after 
 marriage. I have sent two small pictures lately to Mr. Lenox, 
 and shall soon send him another. By Captain Lord I will send 
 you my last lectures. I wrote four new ones, and all are printed 
 in the ' Athenaeum.' " 
 
 " Dec. 27, 1849. 
 
 " I am busy with a small picture from Shakespeare — the dy- 
 ing scene of Katherine of Arragon. It is for Mr. Brunei, and is 
 a companion to the one I painted for him last year of ' Henry 
 VIII. and Anne Boleyn.' It is nearly finished, and I shall then 
 begin a large one of Falstaff acting the part of the King. 
 
 " Have you read Macaulay's History ? It is as entertaining as 
 a novel ; but no doubt the truth is greatly distorted by his polit- 
 ical and other opinions. What will the Philadelphians say to his 
 character of William Penn ? I have no doubt he has done him 
 great injustice." 
 
 1850. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Beatrice. 
 
 " Look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs close to the ground." 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Scene 1. 
 (Painted for John Gibbons, Esq., Begent's Park, and twice repeated.) 
 (121 Tom Jones showing to Sophia Western herself, as her best 
 security for his good behaviour. 
 
 " If I am to judge," said she, " of the future by the past, my image 
 will no more remain in your heart when I am out of your sight, than it 
 will on this glass when I am out of the room." 
 
 History of a Foundling, Book xviii. c. 12. 
 (A repetition of the picture of 1849, painted for John Harris, Esq., 
 Prince's Gate, London.) 
 v 135) Scene from Henry VIII. 
 
 Katherine. — " Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver 
 This to my lord the King, 
 
344 
 
 EXTKACTS FROM 
 
 [1850 
 
 In which I have commended to his goodness 
 
 The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter, 
 
 Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding, 
 
 * * * * * and a little 
 
 To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him 
 Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition 
 Is, that his noble Grace would have some pity 
 Upon my wretched women, that so long 
 Have followed both my fortunes faithfully. 
 
 * * * * * * * * * 
 The last is, for my men. They are the poorest, 
 But poverty never could draw them from me. 
 
 * * * * And, good my lord, 
 
 As you wish Christian peace to souls departed, 
 Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the King 
 To do me this last right." 
 Capucius. " By heaven, I will ; 
 
 Or let me lose the fashion of a man ! " 
 
 Act iv. Scene 2. 
 
 (Painted for Isambard K. Brunei, Esq., F.R.S., and sold at the sale of 
 his pictures this year for 800?.* Repeated smaller, and in the possession 
 of John Nay lor, Esq., Leigh ton Hall, near Welshpool.) 
 
 This year Miss Anne Leslie visited her brother in London, 
 and Leslie lost his brother-in-law, and old schoolfellow, Mr. De 
 Charms. He writes on the occasion to Miss Leslie. 
 
 (Sept. 80th, 1850.) 
 
 " I remember him about 1804 one of the head boys, and one 
 of the very best in Dr. Rogers's school. How little likelihood 
 was there at that time of our future course of life as it has 
 happened — that we should some twenty years afterwards have 
 married sisters in this country ! De Charms was respected as a 
 boy by all the boys in the school, and I am sure he was loved 
 by Dr. Rogers, and he has passed through life respected and 
 esteemed by those who knew him. * * I feel sure that in every 
 relation of life he invariably did that which he considered it his 
 duty to do. Still, after all, we are very imperfect judges even of 
 those we live most with. Our real characters are known only tc 
 God ; we do not even know them ourselves." 
 
 * This was the amount of Mr. Brunei's commission for this picture, and its 
 companion from the same play, which realised 950Z. At the same sale, Sii 
 Edwin Landseer's ' Titania and Bottom,' for which he received AbOl. from Mr. 
 Brunei, was sold for 2800/. — Ed. 
 
1851.] 
 
 LESLIE'S COKRESPONDENCE. 
 
 345 
 
 1851. 
 
 Pictures of the Tear. 
 
 (Exhibited.) A Study. 
 
 (140) Falstaff personating the King. 
 
 Hostess. — " 0, the father, how he holds his countenance ! " 
 Falstaff. — * *■ * " Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spend- 
 est thy time, but also how thou art accompanied; for though the camo- 
 mile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows; yet youth, the more 
 it is wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly 
 thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly a villainous trick 
 of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant 
 me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point — Why, being son to 
 me, art thou so pointed at? " 
 
 First Part of King Henry IV., Act ii. Scene 4. 
 (Painted for John Harris, Esq., Prince's Gate.) 
 (Not exhibited.) A Group of the Duke of Northumberland's Tenants 
 at Stanwick. (Painted for the Duke.) 
 
 TO MISS ANNE LESLIE. 
 
 May mh, 1851. 
 
 I am very busy with a large picture from 4 The Rape of the 
 Lock ' for Mr. Gibbons, and am indeed overwhelmed with com- 
 missions. I wish I could transfer some of them to Robert ; but 
 he must bide his time. He has wonderfully improved within the 
 last year, and I have no fear of his ultimate success. He has 
 taken a house near us, in Northwick Terrace, and he, Jane, and 
 the baby, are all very well ; the last of the three generally comes 
 to see us once a day, and is most engaging. I have also been 
 from home. The Duke of Northumberland, whom I have known 
 for some years, having met him at Mr. Rogers's when he was 
 Lord Prudhoe, asked me to make some sketches for him of some 
 of his old servants at Stanwick, in the north of Yorkshire, where 
 he spends most of his time, and I passed ten days there with him 
 and the Duchess. You know how pleasant he can be, and I found 
 him always the same. The Duchess, too, is very agreeable. You, 
 perhaps, know that she is a daughter of the Marquis of Westmin- 
 
346 
 
 EXTRACTS FEOM 
 
 [1851. 
 
 ster. I painted her when she was a child, in the family picture 
 of her grandfather, the late Marquis." 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 May 18th, 1851. 
 
 I am ashamed to think how long a time I have suffered to 
 pass without writing to you, and I have only the old bad excuse 
 to offer of dislike to letter writing, even to those for whom I have 
 the greatest affection, with the somewhat better apology of in- 
 creasing weakness of my eyes, which makes it important to me to 
 save them as much as I can for painting. I now must not read 
 or write by candlelight, and the little time I can spare in the day 
 for letters is consumed very much by notes, which I must write, 
 and often on business with which I have little concern. I have 
 nothing of consequence to tell you of ourselves ; we are going on 
 as usual. I am very busy with a large picture from ' The Rape 
 of the Lock ; ' and if I have my health and strength for a few 
 years longer, I shall be able to save some money for my family, 
 as I have pictures engaged at my own prices for ten years to come. 
 The increase of the private patronage of Art in this country is 
 surprising. Almost every day I hear of some man of fortune, 
 whose name is unknown to me, who is forming a collection of the 
 works of living painters ; and they are all either men in business, 
 or who have made fortunes in business and retired. Nothing can 
 more strikingly display the resources and wealth of this country 
 than the gigantic scheme that has been so successfully carried 
 out, and with such wonderful rapidity, in Hyde Park. The influx 
 of visitors to London has not yet, however, been so great as was 
 expected. It will, no doubt, increase, but I do not think there is 
 any danger of any one of the evils that have been predicted from 
 the concourse of foreigners or country visitors in London. Fam- 
 ine, pestilence, and revolution, were the foremost of these ; but, 
 for the present, the only effect on the state of the metropolis pro- 
 duced by the Great Exhibition is that the shops, the theatres, and 
 other places of amusement have been, in a degree, deserted for it. 
 
1852.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 347 
 
 1852. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited.) Juliet. 
 
 " What if it be a poison, which the friar 
 Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead; 
 Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd 
 Because he married me before to Romeo? 
 I fear, it is ; and yet, methinks it should not, 
 For he hath still been tried a holy man: 
 I will not entertain so base a thought." 
 
 Borneo and Juliet, Act iv. Scene. 3. 
 (Twice repeated; one repetition is in the possession of Richard News- 
 ham, Esq., 
 
 (Not exhibited.) Girl, holding a Dove. (In the collection of Thomas 
 Miller, Esq., Preston.) — Girl Reading. (In the possession of Edwin 
 Bullock, Esq., Handsworth, near Birmingham. Repeated.) 
 
 TO W. IRVING. 
 
 Abercorn Place, St. John's Wood, 
 London, Jan. 18th, 1852. 
 
 Why do you never write to me? I have not heard whether 
 you received a copy of a note written by Gen. Washington, which 
 I found in an old magazine, or a sketch I sent by Mr. Putnam 
 (at your request) of Diedrich Knickerbocker. I hear frequently 
 of you, and that you are well and happy in your beautiful retreat. 
 I shall never cease regretting that I could not have visited you, as 
 you kindly proposed, when you were at Madrid. But it was 
 literally out of my power, and I doubt now if I shall ever see 
 Spain, or even Italy, which of all places in the world I most wish 
 to visit. 
 
 TO MISS ANNE LESLIE. 
 
 May 9, 1852. 
 
 This spring I have been more than usually engaged, being 
 on the Council of the Academy, and having to assist in arranging 
 
348 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1852. 
 
 the Exhibition. I really expected to be quite knocked up by this, 
 but have got through it better than I hoped. It is not a good 
 Exhibition, many of the principal artists, among them E. Land- 
 seer, having nothing there. I did not get my large picture from 
 the ' Rape of the Lock ' ready, and have only sent a small one 
 of ' Juliet.' 
 
 Hampton, Aug. 29, 1852. 
 
 I am quietly out of town, and enjoying myself very greatly 
 at this beautiful place. We are about a mile from Hampton 
 Court, where George and I go every morning. He is copying 
 pictures in the palace, and I have my ' Rape of the Lock ' there, 
 where I am painting the background, perhaps in the very room 
 where the scene of my picture occurred. 
 
 The weather is perfection, and we stay till the end of Sep- 
 tember. 
 
 TO W. IRVING. 
 
 Hampton, Aug. 29, 1852. 
 
 Since I received your letter of the 25th May, I have had no 
 time to answer it till now, for I am subject to many such inter- 
 ruptions as you complain of, and I dare not use my eyes at night. 
 I think often of you, and long for your ' Life of Washington/ 
 which I trust I may soon see, though you say nothing about it. I 
 was much interested by your account of your " happy home " at 
 Sunnyside, with all your habits and occupations there ; and I will 
 tell you how I am living just now at this beautiful place. We 
 have taken a house from the beginning of this month to the end 
 of September, close to Garrick's Villa, which you may remember 
 as beautifully situated on the river about a mile above Hampton 
 Court. The weather has been delightful ever since we have been 
 here, and promises to continue so. 
 
 I am painting a large picture from ' The Rape of the Lock,' 
 containing fourteen or fifteen figures. I have taken the moment 
 in which Sir Plume is desiring the Baron to return the lock 
 Belinda is in the foreground crying, and surrounded by ladies, 
 and the group of gentlemen further in the picture. As the back- 
 
1853-4.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 349 
 
 ground represents a room in the palace, I am finishing the picture 
 there. I can paint at the palace for two or three hours each 
 morning, uninterrupted by visitors, and on Friday, when it is 
 closed to the public, the whole day. 
 
 I generally go from here in a boat, and my two girls, who 
 spend much of their time on the water, row me back about one 
 o'clock. We dine early and spend the afternoon either on the 
 water, or in the Palace gardens, or Bushy Park, and sometimes at 
 Richmond, and to me there cannot be a more luxurious life, with 
 such perfect weather as we are enjoying. My eldest son is in 
 Devonshire with his wife and two children. My second son, 
 Bradford, is working for Mr. Brunei at a railway bridge at 
 Chepstow, and the rest of us are here. We were a little uneasy 
 lately respecting the English and American fisheries, but I hope 
 all such disputes between the two countries will be got over 
 without a war. 
 
 1853. 
 
 Leslie exhibited no pictures at the Royal Academy this year. 
 (Not exhibited.) Slender, with the assistance of Shallow, Courting 
 Anne Page. (Repetition of his early picture of 1825. Repeated smaller, 
 and in the possession of Thomas Miller, Esq.) 
 
 TO MISS A. LESLIE. 
 
 Oct. 20, 1858. 
 
 I am painting a large picture from Mr. Lenox's subject of 
 Our Saviour calling the Little Child, with alterations, and I hope 
 improvements. 
 
 He sent me an admirable Daguerreotype of his picture, 
 which is of the greatest use to me. 
 
 1854. 
 
 Pictures of the Year, 
 
 (Exhibited.) A Present. —(Painted for W. C. Sole, Esq.) Portrait or 
 Mrs. W. S. Sole. 
 
350 
 
 EXTEACTS FROM 
 
 [1854. 
 
 Scene from " The Rape op the Lock." 
 
 Sir Plume demands the restoration of the lock. 
 M (Sir Plume of amber snuff box justly vain, 
 
 And the nice conduct of a clouded cane) 
 
 With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, 
 
 He first the snuff box open'd, then the case. 
 
 # • * * * * * 
 
 It grieves me much (replied the Peer again) 
 
 Who speaks so well, should ever speak in vain; 
 
 But by this lock, this sacred lock, I swear 
 
 (Which never more shall join its parted hair; 
 
 Which never more its honours shall renew, 
 
 Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew); 1 
 ' That while my nostrils draw the vital air, 
 
 This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear. 
 
 He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread 
 
 The long-contended honours of her head." 
 
 (Not exhibited.) Portrait of John Everett Millais, Esq., A.R.A.— 
 View of the Thames at Hampton — Moonlight. 
 
 (Both sold at the painter's sale.) 
 
 TO W. IRVING. 
 
 May lSth, 1854. 
 
 Of the old set of our mutual friends here, I do not know that 
 any are remaining but Peter Powell, Buskin (J. Russell), and 
 Mr. Rogers. Peter is wonderful for his age, and still performs 
 in private. He is coming here on the 1st of June to a dance. 
 Buskin is still trying to get a good theatrical engagement, but 
 does not succeed. He reads Shakespeare to schools, and gets 
 something thereby. But Mr. Rogers is truly wonderful. He is 
 ninety-one, and is not aware of any disorder or ailing whatever. 
 His memory fails him a little, but he is still pleasant, and has 
 company every morning to breakfast, and often to dinner and tea. 
 He has not attempted to use his legs since the accident he met 
 with a few years ago, by which he broke his thigh bone, but he 
 drives out every day in his carriage and often calls on us. Miss 
 Rogers is not so well in health as her brother, but her memory is 
 still unimpaired. They visit each other daily, and she often 
 breakfasts and takes tea with him. I am better than I have been 
 for the last few years, thanks to Mr. Travers and the care he has 
 taught me to take of myself. 
 
1856.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 351 
 
 When you can find time pray write to me. I very much 
 want a 'Life of Washington.' When shall I have yours? 
 
 1855. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited.) Sancho Panza and Don Pedro Rezio. 
 
 " Then," quoth Sancho, " that great dish that stands fuming there before 
 me, methinks 'tis an olla podrida, and by reason of the diversities of things 
 it hath in it, I cannot but meet with something that will do me good." 
 
 " Absit," quoth the physician, " Far be such an ill thought from U3 
 There is nothing that worse nourisheth than an olla podrida, fit only for 
 your prebends and rectors of colleges, or your country marriages. Let your 
 Governor's tables be without them. And the reason is, because always, 
 and wheresoever, and by whomsoever, your simple medicines are in more 
 request than your compounds ; because in simples there can be no error, in 
 compounds there are many, altering the quantity of things of which they 
 are composed. But what I know is fit for the Governor to eat at present, 
 to preserve his health and to corroborate it, is some hundred of little hollow 
 wafers, and a pretty slice or two of quince marmalade, that may settle 
 his stomach, and help his digestion." 
 
 When Sancho heard this, he leaned himself to the back of his chair, and 
 by fits now and then looked at the physician, and with a grave voice asked 
 him his name, and where he had studied. 
 
 Don Quixote, Part ii. Chap. 47. 
 
 (Painted for Lady Chantry.) 
 (Not exhibited.) Olivia, Twelfth Night. (Repeated.) — The Late Duke 
 of Wellington Looking at a Bust of Washington. (Painted for 
 Miss Burdett Coutts ; repetition painted for the Hon. Abbott Lawrence of 
 Boston, U. S.) — The late Duke and present Duchess of Welling- 
 ton on the Staircase of Buckingham Palace. (Painted for Miss 
 Burdett Coutts.) 
 
 In this year Leslie published the substance of his Academy 
 Lectures, with additions, under the title of ' A Handbook for 
 Young Painters.' The composition and revision of it had occu- 
 pied the latter part of 1854. 
 
 1856. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 (Exhibited.) (144) Hermione. (Painted for I. K. Brunei, Esq., F.R.S. Re- 
 peated.) 
 
352 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1857. 
 
 (Not exhibited.) A repetition, with alterations, from " The Rape of the 
 Lock." (Painted for Edwin Bullock, Esq., Handsworth, near Birming- 
 ham.) — The Opera Box. (Painted for E. Bullock, Esq.) 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 February lOZft, 1856. 
 
 The infirmities of age are now coming upon me, and I am 
 obliged to be very careful of myself. Still I was able to go to 
 Paris for about ten days in November last. The improvements 
 there since Louis Napoleon has made himself emperor, are truly 
 wonderful. Whatever may be his moral character, it certainly 
 seems greatly for the good of France that he is on the throne ; 
 where it may be hoped he will long remain. I hope we shall 
 now be at peace with Russia, and I hope we shall not get into a 
 war with America. But political affairs have of late years so 
 entirely baffled all calculation, that it is impossible to guess to-day 
 what may happen to-morrow. 
 
 1857. 
 
 Picture of the Year. 
 
 Sir Roger de Coverley in Church. 
 
 " As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in 
 very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for, 
 if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon re- 
 covering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees any- 
 body else nodding either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to 
 them." — Spectator, No. 112. 
 (Painted for Thomas Miller, Esq., Preston.) 
 
 These later years furnish nothing to record of the painter but 
 constant work, and affectionate interchange of recollections with 
 the American branches of his family. Early in 1857 his daugh- 
 ter Caroline was married to Mr. Fletcher, under the fairest 
 auspices, soon belied, alas, by her premature death, in March, 
 1859. 
 
 Here is the last glimpse of the painter which his correspond- 
 ence gives us. It is a sunny one ; and leaves such an image of 
 the man as best fits his life and tastes, — surrounded by his family, 
 
1857.] 
 
 LESLIE'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 353 
 
 rambling in the chestnut shades of Bushey Park, feeding the 
 deer that came fearlessly to his kindly hand, painting the back- 
 ground of his " Jeanie Deans " in the green avenues of Hamp- 
 ton Court Garden, and copying from his beloved Cartoons. 
 
 TO MISS LESLIE. 
 
 Hampton Court, July 192/i, 1857. 
 We have been here (that is, my wife, and I, and Mary), for 
 the last seven weeks, and expect to remain two weeks longer. 
 Harriet, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, and George, are now here with 
 us. I came to paint from nature, the background to a picture I 
 am engaged on, of ' Jeanie Deans' interview with Queen Char- 
 lotte.' We have had so far a very fine summer, sometimes' 
 rather too warm, and nothing can be more lovely than this place. 
 We are in a small house, the back windows of which look into 
 Bushey Park, and the deer come to the windows and feed out 
 of our hands. We are very close to the Palace, the gardens of 
 which are, to my mind, the most beautiful I ever saw. Besides 
 the background of my picture, which I am painting from one of 
 the stately avenues of trees in the park, I am copying one of 
 Raphael's Cartoons in the Palace — 1 The Miraculous Draught 
 of Fishes.' 
 
 Nothing can be more delightful than this sort of occupation ; 
 and if I had myself only to consider, I should be perfectly happy. 
 But I am sorry to say, Caroline is still very delicate, and has 
 been so since her marriage. She has the best of husbands, and 
 has no earthly want but health. We think, however, that she has 
 gained strength since she has been here, and when the rest of us 
 return to town, she and Mr. Fletcher will probably go somewhere 
 to the sea-side, and Harriet with them. 
 
 George is a very good boy, and is getting on very well as a 
 painter. He sold a little picture lately to Mr. Monckton Milnes, 
 who has taken a good deal of notice of him, asking him to dine, 
 &c, and he is going in a few days to Bristol, to copy a picture 
 for an American gentleman. 
 
 Robert still lives in Devonshire, and was very well when we 
 last heard from him. Braddy is married, and has a very nice 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1858-9. 
 
 little girl. He is working very hard with Mr. Brunei, who seems 
 to appreciate his abilities, which are not small. Such is our his- 
 tory to the present time. 
 
 For two years after this, Leslie's pictures adorned the walls of 
 the Royal Academy exhibition-rooms. The trace of declining 
 powers was upon them, but they had still his unfailing grace and 
 sweetness of sentiment. His lees were better than the first run- 
 nings of many a more ambitious painter. 
 
 1858. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Christ rebuking his Disciples by calling the Little Child. 
 
 St. Mark ix. 33-35. 
 
 A repetition, but larger than the first picture of the same subject, and with alter- 
 ations. (Painted for Henry Vaughan, Esq.) 
 
 Lady in White Hood. (A Study for the Queen Caroline in the " Jeanie 
 Deans" picture. Painted for J. Birt, Esq., now in the possession of John 
 Nay lor, Esq.) 
 
 1859. 
 
 Pictures of the Year. 
 
 Hotspur and Lady Percy. 
 
 Lady. — " What is it carries you away? " 
 Hotspur. — " Why, my horse, my love, my horse." 
 
 First Part of Henry IV., Act ii. Scene 3. 
 (Painted for Joseph Miller, Esq., Virginia, U. S.) 
 (211.) Jeanie Deans and Queen Caroline. 
 
 " Tear followed tear down Jeanie's cheeks, as, her features glowing and 
 quivering with emotion, she pleaded her sister's cause with a pathos which 
 was at once simple and solemn." 
 
 Heart of Midlothian, vol. ii. ch. 21. 
 (Painted for J. Birt, Esq., now in the collection of John Nay lor, Esq.) 
 
 The day after the Academy opened its doors, while the public 
 were still crowding round these two pictures, — one remarking, 
 perhaps, " Leslie is falling off," to which a more thoughtful spec- 
 tator might have responded, by pointing out the good taste, 
 beauty and sentiment which still reigned through even these 
 
1859.] 
 
 LESLIE'S COKKESPONDENCE. 
 
 355 
 
 less vigorous works — the painter lay dead and cold amid the 
 unutterable grief of the wife who had lived a life of unclouded 
 happiness with him for three and thirty years, and the chil- 
 dren who had been so near his heart, and who had loved in 
 him the most thoughtful, self-sacrificing, and tenderest of fathers. 
 
 He only survived his much loved daughter Caroline by two 
 months. 
 
 His illness was not of long duration. He was first sensible of 
 it during a visit to Petworth, to which he had repaired for change 
 of scene and distraction of mind after the first shock of his 
 daughter's death. He went thence to Worthing, but finding 
 himself worse returned home, when, notwithstanding the utmost 
 attention from his friends, Dr. Williams, Sir Benjamin Brodie, 
 and Mr. Partridge, he gradually sank, and died tranquilly on the 
 5th of May. The disease was pronounced to be one of the liver. 
 His love of art, his son George informs me, seemed to grow 
 stronger as he approached his end. He. expressed to his family 
 his delight at finding his illness did not affect his eye for colour. 
 He had several of his favourite pictures placed, so that he could 
 see them from his bed ; and his son remarks, he never saw him 
 enjoy anything more keenly than he did some of his friend Mr. 
 Thurston Thompson's photographs from the cartoons of RafFaele. 
 
 Leslie had long looked death in the face, and met its approach 
 with the calm faith in God and Christ which is apparent in all I 
 find expressed of his sentiments upon religion. These are not 
 unimportant elements in forming our judgment of a man. I do 
 not know that I can more appropriately close this selection from 
 Leslie's letters, than by the following extracts bearing upon this 
 matter. 
 
 (From a letter to his wife.) 
 
 " Cadge * and I went this morning to the Foundling. The 
 day is lovely, and the little pets there looked lovely. While 
 sitting in church, a thought passed in my mind which might sug- 
 gest a sermon, though, I dare say, it has occurred to many others, 
 and may have been used by preachers, though I have not heard 
 * His daughter Caroline. 
 
356 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 [1859. 
 
 it. I thought, what must be the impression on any person of 
 matured mind who, for the first time in his life, should read the 
 sayings of our Saviour. We are accustomed to them from our 
 infancy, and having first heard them read at a time when we are 
 quite incapable of understanding their weight and value, it is 
 hardly possible for us to be impressed by them as those must 
 have been who lived when he lived. His answer, for instance, 
 when the woman taken in adultery was brought before him ; 
 when the tribute money was shown to him ; when the rich man 
 asked what he should do to go to Heaven ; and when the disciples 
 disputed who should be greatest in Heaven. Then the Sermon 
 on the Mount, the Lord's Prayer, the parables, and his last af- 
 fecting discourse to his disciples. If we could imagine ourselves 
 (for a moment) to be the persons who first heard such things 
 said, how truly should we feel that ' never man spake like this 
 man ; ' and how well should we understand what the two disci- 
 ples felt, when they said, ( Did not our hearts burn within us 
 while he spoke ! ' But familiarity with these precious sayings 
 from our infancy, prevents their ever making the vivid impres- 
 sion on us, which they must have made when uttered, and there- 
 fore I believe it is that God permits different estimates of Christ's 
 character to exist in the world, that our attention may be con- 
 stantly drawn to it by discussion. For my own part, nothing 
 can alter my conviction, that if ever Divine truth was uttered in 
 this world it was by his lips." 
 
 (On a slip of paper attached to his will.) 
 
 " I trust I may die as I now am, in the entire belief of the 
 Christian religion, as I understand it from the books of the New- 
 Testament, that is,- as a direct revelation of the will and good- 
 ness of God towards this world, by Jesus Christ, the Saviour 
 and Judge of the world. In full reliance on the special provi- 
 dence of God, I feel sure that whenever, and by whatever means, 
 I die, will be the best for me ; and I trust this belief will always 
 make me patient and submissive to the will of God, feeling sure 
 that there is no real evil but sin, from which I pray God to deliver 
 all of us now and hereafter." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL PICTURES PAINTED, AND OF ALL THE 
 PICTURES EXHIBITED BY C. R. LESLIE, R.A. 
 
 Those marked* were exhibited at the Royal Academy at the date prefixed. 
 
 1812. Early Portraits. (See Correspondence.) 
 1813* Murder. — Macbeth; Act 2nd, Scene 1st. 
 1814* Saul and the Witch of Endor. 
 
 * Portrait of Mr. J. H. Payne, in the character of Norval. 
 1815. Portrait of a Lady. (Miss Maxwell?) 
 
 1816* Death of Rutland; 3rd Part of Henry VI., Act 1st, 
 Scene 3rd. 
 
 1817. Portraits of American Friends ; painted in Paris. (See 
 
 Correspondence.) 
 
 1818. Girl with a Dead Bird. 
 
 1819. * Portrait of a Lady. 
 
 * Sir Roger de Coverley going to Church ; painted for 
 
 James Dunlop, Esq. Engraved, and in the possession of 
 John Naylor, Esq., Leighton Hall, near Welshpool. 
 The same subject repeated for the Marquis of Lansdowne. 
 1820* Londoners Gipsying. 
 
 Portrait of Washington Irving. 
 1821.* May Day in the Time of Queen Elizabeth. En- 
 graved by Watt. 
 Finished Study of the same ; painted for Alaric Watts. 
 Rebecca in Prison — Ivanhoe ; painted for the Marquis 
 of Lansdowne. 
 
 (About this time Mr. Leslie painted portraits of Mrs. Fry and 
 Samuel Gurney, and a picture of a child in a Cardinal's 
 dress.) 
 
358 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 1822 * The Rivals; painted for Sir Matthew W. Ridley, Bart. 
 
 Engraved. Small Study of same in the possession of Ed- 
 win Bullock, Esq. 
 
 1823. (See Correspondence.) 
 
 1824. * Sancho Panza in the Apartment of the Duchess ; 
 
 painted for the Earl of Egremont. Engraved. Repeated 
 
 for Mr- Vernon. Repeated smaller and purchased by 
 
 Samuel Rogers, Esq. 
 A repetition painted for Leslie's sister in America, now in the 
 
 possession of John Farnworth, Esq. r 
 Portrait of Sir Walter Scott, repeated and engraved. 
 
 1825. * Slender, Shallow, and Anne Page; painted for Sir 
 
 Willoughby Gordon. Engraved. 
 
 * Sir Henry Wotton Presenting the Countess Sabri- 
 
 na with a Valuable Jewel on the eve of his 
 Departure from Venice; painted and engraved for 
 Major's edition of " Walton's Lives." 
 
 * Six Illustrations to the Waverley Novels. En- 
 
 graved. 
 
 1826 * Don Quixote in the Sierra Morena, Deceived by 
 the Curate, Barber, and Dorothea ; painted for the 
 Earl of Essex. Engraved. Small Study for the picture 
 in the Sheepshanks' collection. 
 Queen Katherine and Her Maid. Diploma picture. 
 
 1827. * Lady Jane Grey Prevailed on to Accept the 
 
 Crown ; painted for the Duke of Bedford. Engraved. 
 
 * Study for the Head of Don Quixote. 
 
 * Study for the Head of Sancho Panza. 
 
 1828. "The Bride." 
 
 Portrait of Miss Stephens; painted for the Earl of 
 Essex. 
 
 Lady in a Dutch Dress, with a Screen in Her Hand. 
 
 1829. * Sir Roger de Coverley and the Gipsies. Engraved. 
 
 1830. Portraits of Mrs. King and Lady Burrell; painted 
 
 for the Earl of Egremont. 
 Portrait of Doctor Sims. 
 
 Portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Dillwyn and Family; 
 
 painted for John Dillwyn, Esq., near Swansea. 
 The Infant Princes in the Tower ; painted for Mr. 
 
 Rogers ; now in the possession of Joseph Gillott, Esq. 
 
 1831. * The Dinner at Mr. Page's House. 
 
 " Merry Wives of Windsor." (Repeated in 1838.) 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 359 
 
 1831.* Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman; painted for 
 John Sheepshanks, Esq. Afterwards repeated for Mr. 
 Vernon ; also for Mr. Jacob Bell. All three pictures are 
 now in the National Collection at Kensington. 
 
 1832* Scene from the " Taming of the Shrew;" painted for 
 the Earl of Egremont. Engraved. Repeated for John 
 Sheepshanks, Esq. Now in the National Collection, Ken- 
 sington. 
 
 A small repetition painted for Joseph Birt, Esq. 
 1833.* Tristram Shandy Recovering the Lost Manuscript; 
 in the possession of Thomas Miller, Esq. 
 Repeated for John Gibbons, Esq. 
 
 * Mother Dancing to her Child. 
 
 * Martha and Mary ; painted for James Dunlop, Esq. 
 
 1834. 
 
 Portrait of Lady Lilford ; painted for Lord Holland 
 about this time. 
 
 1835* Columbus and the Egg; painted for W. Wells, Esq., sold 
 at Lord North wick's sale, now in the possession of Joseph 
 Gillott, Esq., Edgbaston. 
 
 * Gulliver's Introduction to the Queen of Brobding- 
 
 NAG ; painted for the Earl of Egremont. 
 (The Family of the Marquis of Westminster; 
 painted for the Marquis of Westminster, about this 
 time.) 
 
 1836. * Autolycus; painted for J. Sheepshanks, Esq., now in the 
 
 National Collection. 
 A Small Picture of Amy Robsart ; in the National 
 Collection. 
 
 Landscape, Evening ; view from Mr. Leslie's window. 
 
 1837. * Perdita. — Winter's Tale. Painted for John Sheepshanks, 
 
 Esq. Now in the National Collection. 
 Study in the possession of J. Heugh, Esq. 
 Repetition of The Infant Princes in the Tower ; in the 
 
 Sheepshanks' Collection. 
 
 * Charles the Second and Lady Bellenden. — Old 
 
 Mortality. Painted for the Earl of Egremont. A small 
 repetition of this picture painted in 1856. 
 
 1838. * The Dinner at Mr. Page's House. — Merry Wives of 
 
 Windsor. Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq. Now in 
 the National Collection. 
 The Queen receiving the Sacrament after the 
 Coronation. — June 28th, 1838; commenced in 1838: 
 
360 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 1838 * exhibited, 1843. Engraved by S. Cousens, R. A. Painted 
 for her Majesty. 
 Portrait of Mrs. Bates. 
 
 1839. * " Who can this be ? " and 
 
 * " Who can this be from ? " Painted for John Sheep- 
 
 shanks, Esq. Now in the National Collection. 
 
 * Sancho Panza. Painted for J. Sheepshanks, Esq. In the 
 
 National Collection. 
 
 * Dulcinea. Painted for J. Sheepshanks, Esq. In the Na- 
 
 tional Collection. 
 Portrait of Dr. Howley, Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 Engraved. 
 
 Small whole-length Portrait of the Duchess of 
 Sutherland in the Coronation Robes. 
 
 The Marquis of Stafford. Both belonging to Sir F. G. 
 Moon. 
 
 1840. * Portrait of Baron Cottenham, Lord High Chancel- 
 
 lor. Painted for William Russell, Esq. Engraved. 
 Child in a Garden with his Little Horse and Cart. 
 
 In the National Collection. 
 Griselda. In the National Collection. 
 
 1841. * Scene from " Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme." In the 
 
 National Collection. 
 A repetition, painted for Lord Holland. 
 A repetition, in the possession of Joseph Gillott, Esq. 
 Lucretia. In the National Collection. 
 Fairlop Fair. Painted for the Duke of Norfolk. 
 The Queen in the Coronation Robes. In the National 
 
 Collection. 
 
 * The Library at Holland House, with Portraits. 
 
 Painted for Lord Holland. Engraved. 
 The First Lesson, from a Design by Raffaelle. Painted 
 
 for S. Rogers, Esq., in the possession of Thomas Miller, 
 
 Esq., Preston. 
 There are three repetitions of this picture. 
 
 1842. * Scene from " Twelfth Night ; " Act I. Scene 3. 
 
 Painted for Thomas Baring, Esq., M. P. 
 A repetition of this, painted in 1850, is in the possession of 
 Edwin Bullock, Esq. 
 
 * Queen Katherine and her Maid. Now in the National 
 
 Collection. Repetition of Diploma picture. 
 Commenced a picture of The Christening of the Prin- 
 cess Royal. Painted for Her Majesty. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 361 
 
 1843.* Portrait of Benjamin Travers, Esq., F. R. S. 
 
 * Scene from the " Vicar of Wakefield," Chapter XL 
 
 Now in the collection of Thomas Miller, Esq. 
 
 * Portrait of Henry Angelo, Esq. 
 
 * " La Malade Imaginaire ; " Act III. Scene 6. Now in the 
 
 National Collection. 
 Christ and his Disciples at Capernaum; Matthew, 
 Chapter XVIIL, verse 2. Painted for James Lenox, Esq., 
 of New York. 
 
 1844* Scene from " Comus ; " in the collection of John Naylor, 
 Esq. Afterwards painted in fresco in the Pavilion, in 
 Buckingham Palace Gardens, for Her Majesty. 
 
 * Sancho Panza in the Apartment of the Duchess. 
 
 Repetition of Petworth picture. Painted for Robert Ver- 
 non, Esq. Now in the National Collection. 
 Lady Carlisle carrying the Pardon to the Duke 
 of Northumberland in the Tower. Painted for 
 Lord Leconfield. 
 Portrait of Miss Burdett Coutts. 
 1845* The Heiress. Painted for E. Bicknell, Esq. 
 
 * Scene from " Les Femmes Savantes," Act III. Scene 2. 
 
 Painted for John Sheepshanks, Esq. Now in the National 
 Collection. 
 
 Girl in a Coblentz Cap, with Lilies of the Valley 
 in her Hand. Painted for Robert Burton, Esq., New 
 York. 
 
 1846 * Reading the Will. — Roderick Random. Painted for John 
 Gibbons, Esq. 
 
 Small Repetition, painted for Thomas Miller, Esq., in 1856. 
 
 * Mother and Child. Painted for John Gibbons, Esq. 
 
 Engraved by J. H. Robinson, Esq., R.A. 
 Repetition, painted for James Lenox, Esq., of New York. 
 
 * Portrait of Charles Dickens, Esq., in the character of 
 
 Bobadil. Engraved. 
 1847* Martha and Mary. Repetition of the picture of 1833. 
 Painted for James Lenox, Esq., New York. 
 Repeated for Edwin Bullock, Esq., Handsworth, near Bir- 
 mingham. 
 
 * The Pharisee and the Publican. Painted for James 
 
 Lenox, Esq., New York. 
 
 * Children at Play. Painted for Sir Robert Wigram. 
 The Lady, in " Comus;" in the possession of John Heugh, 
 
 Esq. 
 
362 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 1847 * The Locket (oval). Painted for Richard Newsham, Esq. 
 Repetition, in the possession of Thomas Miller, Esq. 
 Portrait of Capt. E. E. Morgan. 
 
 1848. * Lady Jane Grey reading Plato. In the possession of 
 
 Thomas Miller, Esq. 
 
 * The Shell. Painted for John Gibbons, Esq. 
 
 1849. * Scene from Henry VIII. — Act I. Scene 4. Painted for 
 
 Isambard Kingdom Brunei, Esq., F. R. S. 
 
 * Scene from Don Quixote : — The Duke's Chaplain 
 
 enraged, leaving the Table. Painted for Joshua 
 Bates, Esq. 
 
 The Necklace. In the National Collection. 
 Sophia Western. Repeated. 
 
 Lady with Scarlet Geranium in her Hand. Painted 
 
 for C. Constable, Esq. 
 Capt. and Mrs. Morgan and Children. Painted for 
 
 Capt. E. E. Morgan, New York. 
 
 1850. * Beatrice in the Garden. Painted for John Gibbons, 
 
 Esq. Repeated. 
 
 * Sophia Western and Tom Jones — Book XVIII. Chap. 
 
 XII. In the possession of John Harris, Esq., Princes 
 Gate. 
 
 * Scene from Henry VIII. ; Queen Katherine. — Act IV. 
 
 Scene 2. Painted for I. K. Brunei, Esq. 
 Repeated smaller ; in the possession of John Naylor, Esq. 
 Robinson Crusoe reading the Bible ; in the possession 
 of James Dugdale, Esq. Engraved. 
 1851* A Study. 
 
 * Falstaff personating the King. — 1st Part of Henry 
 
 IV. Act II. Scene 4. Painted for John Harris, Esq., 
 Princes Gate. 
 
 A Group of the Duke of Northumberland's Ten- 
 ants. Painted for the Duke of Northumberland, at Stan- 
 wick. 
 
 1852. * Juliet. Repeated twice ; one painted for Richard Newsham, 
 
 Esq. 
 
 Girl holding a Dove. In the collection of Thomas 
 Miller, Esq. 
 
 Girl reading. In the possession of Edwin Bullock, Esq., 
 Handsworth, near Birmingham. Repeated. 
 
 1853. Slender, with the assistance of Shallow, courting 
 
 Anne Page. Repeated smaller; in the possession of 
 Thomas Miller, Esq. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 363 
 
 1854.* A Present ; painted for W. C. Sole, Esq. Repetition. 
 
 * Portrait of Mrs. W. C. Sole. 
 
 Portrait of John Everett Millais, Esq., A. R. A. 
 
 * Scene from the Rape of the Lock ; painted for John 
 
 Gibbons, Esq. 
 1854. View on the Thames at Hampton. 
 1855* Sancho Panza and Don Pedro Rezio ; Don Quixote, 
 Part II., chap. 47 ; painted for Lady Chan trey. 
 Olivia ; Twelfth Night. Repeated. 
 
 Portrait of the late Duke of Wellington, looking 
 at a Bust of Washington ; painted for Miss Burdett 
 Coutts. 
 
 Repetition ; painted for the Hon. Abbott Lawrence, of Boston, 
 
 u. s. 
 
 The late Duke and present Duchess of Wellington, 
 on the Staircase of Buckingham Palace ; painted 
 for Miss Burdett Coutts. 
 
 1856. * Hermione; Winter's Tale; painted for I. K. Brunei. Re- 
 
 peated. 
 
 A Repetition, with alterations, of the Scene from the Rape of 
 
 the Lock ; painted for Edwin Bullock, Esq. 
 The Opera Box; painted for Edwin Bullock, Esq. 
 
 1857. * Sir Roger de Coverley in Church; Spectator, No. 112; 
 
 painted for Thomas Miller, Esq., Preston. 
 
 1858. * Christ and his Disciples at Capernaum; Matt, xviii. 2. 
 
 Larger than the first picture of the same subject, and with 
 alterations ; painted for Henry Vaughan, Esq. 
 Study for Queen Caroline ; painted for Joseph Birt, 
 Esq. ; in the possession of John Naylor, Esq. 
 
 1859. * Jeanie Deans' Interview with Queen Caroline; 
 
 painted for Jacob Birt, Esq.; in the possession of John 
 Naylor, Esq. 
 
 * Hotspur and Lady Percy; painted for Joseph Miller, 
 
 Esq., Virginia, U. S. 
 (Of uncertain date.) 
 
 Little Girl, with her Doll, and a Tazza of Flow- 
 ers ; in the collection of Joseph Gillott, Esq. 
 
 Greek Maiden Holding a Lyre (Moonlight). Engraved 
 by Finden. In the collection of E. Bicknell, Esq. 
 
 the end. 
 
GETTY RESEARCH INSTITUTE 
 
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