THE STORY
OF
SIR DAVID
WILKIE
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NELSON & SONS
A 449077
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ARTES
1837.
SCIENTIA
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LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
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THE BOR
I-QUAERIS PENINSULAM AMOENAML
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UrM
SIR DAVID WILKIE, R.A.
THE STORY OF
SIR DAVID WILKIE.
HIS LIFE AND WORKS.
A dam
L.
IND
BY
SIMPSON, D.D.,
=
DERBY.
T

LONDON: THOMAS NELSON AND SONS.
EDINBURGH AND NEW YORK.
1879.
.
:
·
авто
of 10-21-26
reface.

HE object of this little book is to bring
within the reach of all classes an account
of the life and works of the distinguished
Painter of whom it treats. The genial biography
by the late Allan Cunningham extends over three
octavo volumes; and the "Wilkie Gallery," with
its beautiful engravings and appropriate letterpress,
is both large and costly. Neither of these works,
therefore, fulfils the conditions necessary to secure
their circulation among all grades of society. And
yet it is surely important that an artist of such
exceptional ability, of such amiable personal quali-
ties, and one whose pencil delineated so truthfully,
with such genial humour and tender human sym-
pathy, the varied aspects of character and life,
should be brought into familiar contact with the
people at large.
276244
viii
PREFACE.
There are few painters so popular with all classes
as Wilkie, and there are few whose productions are
so likely to exert a humanizing and generally health-
ful effect. His character and his works go well
together, and their united influence can only be in
the direction of good. To weave together the story
of his life and a description of his works, is, there-
fore, to explain and enhance our appreciation of
both. The present sketch is a humble attempt to
accomplish this; and it is hoped that the blended
picture of the man and the artist which it seeks to
present may tend to a clearer understanding of the
latter, while it deepens, at the same time, our respect
for the former.
It is proper to add that in compiling this little
volume the author has been largely indebted to
Allan Cunningham's "Biography," the "Wilkie
Gallery," and Cassell's "Masterpieces of Celebrated
Painters."
Contents.
CHAPTER I.
Birth and parentage of Sir David Wilkie-Early signs of art-feeling-His great
assiduity and carefulness-Illustrative extract from his diary-Character-
istics of his works-Sir George Beaumont's opinion as to the sphere and
range of his genius.
13-21
CHAPTER II.
Wilkie's views on a painter's choice of subjects-Extract from letter to Sir
George Beaumout on this-Remarks on the relations of pictorial and liter-
ary art to each other- The three periods of Wilkie's art career-His views
with regard to colour and art in general-Opinion of the late Mr. Johnston,
Curator of the National Gallery at Edinburgh, as to Wilkie's third and
latest style of art........
22-31
CHAPTER III.
Wilkie and the Trustees' Academy at Edinburgh-His first success-Prize of
ten guineas-His first important work, "Pitlessie Fair"-Its character-
Wilkie's own opinion of its merits-Generous conduct of Mr. Kinnear of
Kinloch House—A contrast to this-Wilkie goes to London-Notices of
his early efforts and successes in London-Description of his first great
picture, "The Village Politicians".
32-47
X
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
Wilkie's second great picture exhibited in London-"The Blind Fiddler”-De-
scription of-Engravers of Wilkie's works-His fame fully established-
Visit to his parents-His picture of "Alfred in the Neatherd's Cottage"-
Description of "The Rent Day" described..
48-64
CHAPTER V.
""
The
Occasional portrait-painting-"The Card-Players"-Reference to a correspond-
ence with Dr. Chalmers-Description of "The Only Daughter,"
Jew's Harp," "The Cut Finger,' The Village Ale-house"- Temporary
illness of the painter- Resides for a time at Hampstead-Visits Sir
George Beaumont at Dunmow in Essex-Paints "The Gipsy Mother"
Returns to London-Elected Royal Academician-"The Wardrobe Ran-
sacked"
65-82
CHAPTER VI.
Visits his parents in Scotland-Returns to London, and resides at Kensington-
Letter to his sister-Collective exhibition of his pictures - Unpleasant
incident connected with this exhibition-Picture of "Blind Man's Buff”.
Description of-Death of Wilkie's father-Removal of his mother and
sister to London-Picture of "The Piper" described-Pictures of "The
Letter of Introduction" and "The Refusal" described-Visits Paris--
“Distraining for Rent" and "The Rabbit on the Wall" described-Visits
the Netherlands-On his return is arrested at Calais for sketching..83-109
CHAPTER VII.
Various commissions "The Penny Wedding"- Visits Scotland-Warmly
received by Professor Dugald Stewart-Visits Abbotsford-Introduction to
James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd-Paints family group for Sir Walter
Scott Scott's description of it-"The Reading of a Will" described-
"The Chelsea Pensioners". Guess my Name"-"The School"-Signs
of failing health-Visits Edinburgh-"The Parish Beadle "Illustrations
of "The Gentle Shepherd," &c.—Is appointed King's Limner for Scotland
in 1823..
110-129
CONTENTS.
xi
CHAPTER VIII.
Trying events-Health feeble-Work discontinued-Long absence from Eng-
land-Influence of his residence on the Continent on his views of art-
Health recovered while in Spain-His Spanish pictures-His opinion of
Murillo and Velasquez-His return to London-Eight pictures in Exhibi-
tion of 1829-Public opinion of his new class of subjects and style of treat-
ment-The Presidency of the Royal Academy question-Portrait of George
IV. in Highland costume, and "Entry of George IV. into Holyrood"—
"Knox Preaching at St. Andrews"
130-147
•
...
CHAPTER IX.
Portraits of the Duke of Wellington and the Duke of Sussex-Again visits
Scotland-Six pictures exhibited in 1835-Three portraits; namely, "The
Duke of Wellington," Sir James M'Grigor," and "Edward Irving"-
Three of a historical and fanciful character; namely, "Columbus at the
Convent of La Rabida," "Sancho Panza in the Days of his Youth," and
"The First Ear-ring"-The Columbus" described—“Sir David Baird at
Seringapatam"-Irish pictures-Elected a Corresponding Member of the
Institute of France-Receives the honour of Knighthood-Pictures of 1837
-The picture of Sir David Baird described-Picture of Queen Victoria
presiding at her first council-Portrait of O'Connell-Visits Wordsworth—
Goes to Scotland — Exhibition of 1840-Unfinished picture of "Knox
Administering the Sacrament at Calder House"..
....
...
148-163
CHAPTER X.
His departure to the East-His arrival at Constantinople-Commencement of
his "Oriental Sketches"-His first view of Jerusalem-His impressions of
it-His return from the Holy Land-His last illness-Death and burial-
Remarks..
164-175
CHAPTER XI.
General estimate of Wilkie.....
176-188
List of Ellustrations.
:
:
SIR DAVID WILKIE, R.A.,
THE VILLAGE POLITICIANS,
THE BLIND FIDDLER,
ALFRED IN THE NEATHERD'S COTTAGE,
THE RENT DAY,
THE JEW'S HARP,
FRONTISPIECE
43
51
57
61
69
:
:
73
77
89
93
97
105
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
:
THE CUT FINGER,
THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL,
THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION,
DUNCAN GRAY,
THE PEDLAR,
THE RABBIT ON THE WALL,
THE ABBOTSFORD FAMILY,
THE GENTLE SHEPHERD,
THE MAID OF SARAGOSSA,
:
:
:
:
:
113
127
137
:
SIR DAVID WILKIE. R.A.
CHAPTER I.
Birth and parentage of Sir David Wilkie-Early signs of art-feeling-His great
assiduity and carefulness-Illustrative extract from his diary-Character-
istics of his works-Sir George Beaumont's opinion as to the sphere and
range of his genius.

HE subject of our present sketch was born
T
at the manse of Cults, in the county of
Fife, on November the 18th, 1785; his
father being minister of Cults parish. In consequence
of his having evinced an early predilection for art,
he was, in 1799,-being only fourteen years of age,
-sent to the Trustees' Academy at Edinburgh, then
under the able directorship of Mr. Graham.
If ever it could be said of any one that he was
In such cases
born a painter, it could of Wilkie.
as his, where eminence is rapidly attained, we are
14
BORN A PAINTER.
accustomed to look for some awakening circum-
stances in the outward life. But with Wilkie there
were none. It was all from within, in the first
instance at least, and that in the most absolute
sense. There were no paintings around him, no
forms of art meeting the eye, no words about art
reaching the ear. There was not the dimmest
tradition of it in his family, nor the remotest
beckonings on the right hand or the left.
""
The trite
saying of Horace, that the poet is born a poet, does
not become such, found its verification in him, as
applied to the sister art. "Ut poesis sic pictura.'
As with poetry so with painting in this respect;
for the poet is the word-painter, and the painter is
the poet in form and colour. They are "makers"
both, and this first elementary condition of power
attaches to the one as well as the other.
The case of the Italian shepherd-boy Giotto,
drawing the forms of his sheep on the stones of the
Florentine hills, occurs as a somewhat parallel case.
And yet in Wilkie it was even more remarkable.
When we think of a boy scarce able to speak, down
upon the floor with his piece of burnt stick draw-
ing the face, as he said, of "bonnie Lady 'Gonie"
(Balgonie, he meant); when we think of him, a
i.
REMARKS ON PAINTING.
15
year or two afterwards, hailed as portrait-painter
in ordinary to the village school; then, to the no
small scandal of the district, breaking out with the
same irrepressible instinct in the church itself—
filling the fly-leaves of his psalm-book with the
features of many a quaint and drowsy parishioner;
afterwards leaving the walls of the manse nursery,
everywhere that a surface could be obtained, writ-
ten over with the juvenile hieroglyphics of art;-
when we witness all this, we cannot but feel that
these were the sparks of a fire of Nature's own
kindling, which was destined in due time to become
a conspicuous light.
It was doubtless this fact of his own experience
which led him to say, in his fragmentary "Remarks
on Painting: "-"Whoever, in choosing a pursuit in
life, selects that of painting, has probably made his
choice unconscious of the impulse that directed him;
but, feeling a fixed purpose of soul, resolves to
become an artist, and produce those happy shapes
and that natural elevation of sentiment which Art
in her finest mood has created." Again
Again: "The
disposition which induces a youth to begin to
imitate with a pencil the human form, and then add
character and action, it is vain to try to account
16
AN INCESSANT WORKER.
for." And once more :— "The true follower of the
Muse of Art, from the earliest childhood will remem-
ber that happy disposition which made every idea
agreeable connected with the pursuit for which
Nature designated him. A bit of rough carving
in wood or in stone, or the rudest print in a book,
had charms felt by him, and unfelt by others.
They suggested what they failed to express, and the
young fancy made out what the hands wanted skill
to accomplish."
For
And yet he was far indeed from confounding
this original instinct with actual achievement, or
supposing that it diminished in the slightest degree,
the necessity of labour in order to eminence.
there never was toil more conscientious and more
assiduous than his. Both in his strictly student
career, and in the epoch of his earlier works in
London, his industry was so incessant that it no
doubt helped to lay the foundation of that cerebral
weakness which arrested his pencil for so long a
time, and which led forward to his too early death.
We have only to open his diary at any part, in
order to perceive not only an amount but a careful-
ness of labour which were altogether astonishing.
The alterations, amendments, rubbings out and fill-
(612)
EXTRACT FROM DIARY.
17
ings in, were seemingly endless; and as we pass our
eye over the pages,-a line or two often recording
the result of a whole day's work,—we begin to feel
as if there were far more labour than progress, and
that the completing of a work was with him all but
an impossibility.
We take a specimen at random-November 7,
1808 (æt. 23):-"I began to alter the effect of the
sketch of 'The Cut Finger;' painted part of the
petticoat of the old woman. 8th, Painted from ten
to four, when I had a call from. Newton; put in
the blue handkerchief of the tallest girl, the ribbons
of her cap, and touched the petticoat of the old
woman. 9th, Painted in the boy's pinafore. 10th,
The only thing I painted at home to-day was the
pinafore of the boy, which I am not sure but I
must rub out. It seems not the proper colour.
11th, Rubbed out to-day what I did yesterday to
the child's pinafore, and painted it in again of a
bright yellow colour; which, with the dark-coloured
trousers, improved the look of the picture greatly.
12th, Haydon came to breakfast, saw the picture,
and approved of the boy's clothes, but objected to
the blue apron of the old woman, on account of its
being too cold for that part of the picture. When
(612)
2
18
A CHARACTERISTIC INCIDENT.
he was gone, I began to paint, and finished the cap
of the old woman, and put in the cat at her feet.
13th, Seguier called. He liked 'The Cut Finger,'
so far as it goes, better than anything I have done;
advised me to lessen the boy's hand, and alter the
colour of his pinafore. 14th, Altered the boy's
pinafore, as Seguier had suggested, from a strong
to a pale yellow, which has certainly improved the
look of the picture," &c.
Wilkie was one of those calm, persistent, self-
contained characters who see no impossibilities, and
whose enthusiasm is not the less likely to be trium-
phant that it is deliberate and tranquil. At a time
when he was not able to pay for the attendance of
models, he was a model to himself. Hence such an
incident as this:-" Wilkie, who was always hospi-
table," says Haydon, "invited me one morning to
breakfast soon after his arrival in London. I went
accordingly to 8 Norton Street, and knocked at the
door of his apartments. A voice called, 'Come in.'
I opened the door, and found, instead of the break-
fast which I expected, the painter sitting partly
naked, and drawing from his left knee, for a figure
which he had on his easel. He was not at all
moved, for nought moved Wilkie; and when I

CONCERNING WILKIE's style.
19
expressed surprise at what he was about, he replied,
with a smile, 'It's capital practice, let me tell you.'"
It is scarcely necessary to say that the great
strength of Wilkie lay in dramatic delineation of
character. This is, no doubt, more or less the
aim of every painter of figure-subjects; unless,
indeed, in those cases where emotional excitement
is carried to such a height that individual expres-
sion is necessarily lost in the one grand dominating
sentiment of the theme. This, however, was seldom
the case with Wilkie; at least, in that range of
subjects embraced in his earlier style. These were
essentially character-subjects; and it is perfectly
astonishing to notice with what nicety and preci-
sion he stamps the individuality of the man or the
class upon both features and form.
It is the very
man himself that we have before us, with the very
look and meaning over every inch of him which he
ought to have, considering the man he is, and the
circumstances in which he is placed; and this, too,
it must be remembered, for it is one of his most
marked distinctions,—without the slightest admix-
ture of caricature. To effect this is a great achieve-
ment; for it is one of the most difficult problems
of art, whether in painting, poetry, or fiction, to
20
HIS PERSONAGES AND GROUPS.
deal with a vast variety of subjects of humour and
pathos, and to be always truly humorous or pathetic,
and yet never pass into caricature, on the one hand,
or sensationalism on the other. Even Hogarth, to
whom Wilkie has sometimes been compared, is not
always free from the vice referred to. But Wilkie
is. All is simple, natural, unembarrassed truth with
him. His humour may not be loud, but it is deep
and genuine. There is an extraordinary amount,
too, of what may be called self-unconsciousness,
about his personages and groups. They are drama-
tically rendered, and yet they are not acting. They
are not aware of their own existence. They are
just there where they are, doing what they should
do, or what they mean to do, in the most easy,
natural, unconscious manner. They have a very
wide audience indeed, thanks to the genius of the
painter, which has gathered in about them the
civilized world, but they are not aware of it.
They are simply enjoying themselves, or making
fools of themselves, always revealing themselves,
—but evidently without the slightest suspicion of
the delight they are giving to thousands looking on.
The special sphere and range of his genius were
well discriminated by his noble-minded friend,-
A FRIENDLY OPINION.
21
himself an artist of no mean powers,-Sir George
Beaumont. Writing to him when he was in his
twenty-eighth year, he says,—"Simplicity is the vital
principle of the line you have chosen; deep pathos,
although I think you are quite equal to it, you do
not appear to aim at [he both aimed at this and
accomplished it, at a later date]; satire and broad
humour are not, perhaps, congenial to your feelings;
what remains then is the amenity of humble life,
dashed with a proper proportion of comic humour.
In this line, in The Blind Fiddler,' &c., you have
succeeded to the admiration of the world."
CHAPTER II.
Wilkie's views on a painter's choice of subjects-Extract from letter to Sir
George Beaumout on this-Remarks on the relations of pictorial and liter-
ary art to each other- The three periods of Wilkie's art career-His views
with regard to colour and art in general-Opinion of the late Mr. Johnston,
Curator of the National Gallery at Edinburgh, as to Wilkie's third and
latest style of art.
LTHOUGH it cannot be said that any one
gave specific direction to the style and
genius of Wilkie, it must not be over-
looked that the particular sphere in which he
achieved his earliest fame-the dramatic representa-
tion of humble, national character and manners, in
connection with individual expression-had been
so far entered upon by David Allan, formerly the
head of the Academy, and cultivated by him with
considerable success. This, no doubt, would help
to sustain Wilkie in what was, nevertheless, the
original bent of his own mind.
He differed considerably from most painters in
the principle which guided him in the choice of

ON THE PAINTER'S CHOICE OF SUBJECTS.
23
subjects.
He did not think it advisable, as a
general rule, or even at all, except in very special
cases,—that a painter should select his subjects from
the works of another man. Thus, writing to Sir
George Beaumont, he says,-"I think we are pretty
well agreed upon the point that the painter had
better be the author of his own subject: for, if the
poet from whom he takes his ideas be a moderate
one, he had certainly better trust to himself; and
if he be excellent, the mind of the spectator is
prejudiced. This I take to be the main cause of
the pretty general failure of those who paint from
Shakespeare; who impresses so striking a picture
previously on the reader, that it is a hundred to
one the picture, however excellent, may fail of its
effect. It is indeed almost impossible to contend
successfully with a strong previous impression."
This idea seems very much to have guided him
all through. Strictly speaking, he has illustrated
very little of other men's works. At any time
when asked to do this he almost invariably de-
clined. He engaged, indeed, to furnish a few illus-
trations to Sir Walter Scott; but that was more to
oblige his distinguished friend, than from any
change in his views.
24
THE REFUSAL.”
The ballad of "Duncan Gray" furnished him with
a theme quite to his mind, and his picture of that
subject is one of his happiest efforts. But even in
that case he seemed unwilling to admit that it was
an illustration. He called it "The Refusal ;" as if he
were quite unable to allow, even to himself, that it
was, in any specific sense, the transcript of another
man's idea. Not that there was the faintest shadow
of untruthfulness or dishonesty in his intention,-on
the contrary, he was one of the most sensitively
honourable of men, but he shrank from the idea
of his work being judged by reference to that of
another. He wished to be compared with himself,
not with Burns, and was unwilling to be considered
as having taken upon himself the responsibility of
reproducing another man's thought, which he might
possibly miss and yet be true to the subject in its
essence after all. Hence he called this work, not
"Duncan Gray," although in reality it was "Duncan
Gray" all over, but simply, and more generally, "The
Refusal."
This principle, as laid down and acted upon by
Wilkie, was, no doubt, extreme. We should not
wish to be without fitting "illustrations" of our
great poets and novelists. This, besides being a loss
PICTORIAL AND LITERARY ART.
25
in connection with literature, would involve a serious.
diminution of the art-treasures of most countries.
Still, there is a danger in the other direction, and
this seems to be the danger of the present day.
There is too little independence in the choice of sub-
jects among modern artists.
Art is too parasitical
in this respect; and from the extent to which modern
exhibitions present us with mere repetitions of situa-
tions and incidents found in the pages of the novelist
and poet, painting is in danger of losing its dignity
as a self-sufficing and independent art, and of becom-
ing the mere pendicle of something which it has as
good a right to dictate to as to receive from.
That a considerable change-as regards pictorial
art—has taken place in this particular during the
last thirty years or so, seems evident when we glance
over the best "Annuals" of that period, which was
indeed that of their "palmy days." We find that
instead of the painters of that time taking their sub-
jects from the poets, the poets were rather accus-
tomed to take their subjects from the painters-Mrs.
Hemans, Miss Landor, Alaric A. Watts, and even
the poet-laureate, Southey, repeatedly presenting the
public with poems suggested by or illustrative of
some eminent picture of the day. It seems to be
26
THREE PERIODS.
the converse of this which is established now. With-
out laying either system under the ban, it is not too
much to expect greater reciprocity, at least, between
the sister arts,—so that the independence of each
may be maintained even while they work together,
hand in hand, as they may well do. At all events,
there seems to be no reason in the world why the
originating faculty should be all on the one side, and
little more than illustrative power put forth on the
other. Howard, the academician and contemporary
of Wilkie, agreed with him on this point, and con-
tributed a paper to one of the Annuals, which argues
strongly for originality of subject on the part of the
painter. His views, however, were not quite so
absolute and exclusive as those of Wilkie.
""
The art career of Wilkie divides itself into three
periods. The first two were very much alike in the
class of subjects selected,—"The Village Politicians"
belonging to the one, and "The Penny Wedding'
to the other; but they differed in the manner of
treatment. The third was a complete divergence
from both, his sphere being now more strictly his-
torical, and his canvases generally much larger.
In the second of his modes, which dates from
about 1811, he aimed at greater richness of colour,
WILKIE'S VIEWS REGARDING COLOUR.
27
more clearness of handling, and more technical finish.
At the same time, it must be recorded of Wilkie
that he never overlooked the fact that colour, how-
ever important, was only a means to an end, to be
regulated by the nature of the subject in hand.
There are numerous passages in his letters and diary
which make this very apparent, and which are well
calculated to correct the mistake of those who speak
of colour as an absolute quality, and who judge of
it by some abstract standard in their own minds,
without reference to the nature and meaning of the
particular subject. Thus, for example, writing to a
pupil of his own at Rome, he says,
"Whatever you
""
do should be in colours. These, in the two great
masters (M. Angelo and Raphael), though subservient
to a higher object, are always most skilfully arranged.'
Again, with reference to Angelo, he says,-" As a
colourist people seem to apologize for him, but I
assure you quite unnecessarily; his colouring is
always appropriate, never offends, and is in many
parts as fine as Correggio or Titian. Broken tints,
with most agreeable arrangement and harmony, with
all the suavity of richness and tone we are accus-
tomed to exact from the Venetians, seem to have
been quite familiar to him; and high as his other
28
NOT A COPYIST.
qualities are for composition and mental intelligence,
his colour rather adds to than detracts from them."
Again, in allusion to a picture which he saw in
Spain,—“The colouring is just what colour ought to
be-an accessory to the intellectual objects of the
picture." And once more, of Murillo," His colour
seems adapted to the highest class of art; it is never
minute or particular, but a general and poetical
recollection of nature."
The principle which runs through these quotations
is of great importance, and, if kept in mind, would
go far to prevent much irrelevant criticism. With
regard still further to Wilkie's views of art, and the
spirit in which he worked, his biographer, Allan
Cunningham, remarks that "he regarded nature as
a vast academy, and the varied forms with which it
was peopled as figures with which he had to form
new combinations and awaken new sensibilities."
This was perfectly true, for he was not a slavish
copyist merely. He had too much soul for that.
His own remarks on this subject are worthy of notice.
"If true art," he says, "were but an exact repre-
sentation of nature, it could be practised with abso-
lute certainty and assurance of success; but the duty
of art is of a higher kind. If, by an operation of
ART, AND ITS RELATION TO MAN.
29
mechanism, animated nature could be copied with
the accuracy of a cast in plaster, a tracing on a wall,
or a reflection in a glass, without modification, and
without the proprieties and the graces of art [it
is evident photography was at this time unthought
of], all that utility could desire would be perfectly
attained; but it would be at the expense of almost
every quality which renders art delightful. Art is
only art when it adds mind to form." He claims
that it should be, as he elegantly expresses it, "a
general and poetical recollection of nature."
man.
Like other great artists, Wilkie looked upon all
art as deriving its importance from its relation to
This, according to him, must always be the
source of its interest and the centre of its meaning.
"Without some reference to man," he says,
"with
his labours and his pursuits, a work of art would
have little interest either to the eye or to the thought."
On this principle and in this spirit all his works
were conceived and executed. There is an intense
humanity in all that he did; not unpleasantly thrust
upon you, but simply there as a matter of necessity
-taken for granted, as it were, as that without
which the essential condition of interest would be
wanting. The late David Scott of Edinburgh-one
30
WILKIE'S LATEST STYLE.
""
of the most original and suggestive of Scottish artists
-announced the proposition, that the grand purpose
of art was the sustainment of whatever was
"dis-
tinctive of humanity in man.' This fine sentiment,
and (when once stated) obvious truth, had no doubt
with him a more ideal reference than it could have
with Wilkie; but we see it in Wilkie nevertheless.
Humble though most of his subjects were, and end-
lessly varied in the expression of both faces and
figures, there is a basis of essential humanity in them
all, by which the distinctions of our nature are made
to be silently felt, in spite of all the brokenness of
surface inseparable from such an amount of individual
expression and detail.
With regard to his third and latest style, which
originated in his three years' visit to the Continent,
and his admiration of the masters of Italy and Spain,
great variety of opinion has prevailed. Some have
regarded it as a proper and important occupation of
a higher circle of thought, and one which was more
worthy the efforts of a great painter; while others
have considered that he lost in this much of what
was most rarely distinctive in his powers, while it
led him to substitute a more vague and less charac-
teristic class of productions. On this subject I may

HIS CHIEF FAILURES.
31
be permitted to quote the words of the late Mr.
Johnston, then the accomplished Curator of the
National Gallery at Edinburgh; who, in his admir-
able catalogue of the works in that gallery, and in
his concise but discriminative notice of Wilkie, says,
"His latest method has been much censured, and
often far too severely. In striving to attain the
depth and richness of colour which he admired in
some of the ancient masters, he occasionally exhibited
a looseness and indecision in his drawing; but some
of his works of that period are remarkable for quali-
ties of texture and colour; and in his 'Cottar's
Saturday Night,' for instance, he rivals Rembrandt
in effect and transparency. His chief failures were
when he tried to represent historical events in past.
ages. He knew little or nothing of the customs and
manners of our ancestors, and introduced matter-of-
fact life-guardsmen to represent the ambitious Murray
or the relentless Morton. His portraits have been
very generally decried, but unjustly, as many of
them are of high excellence, such as those of the
Earl of Kelly and the Duke of Sussex."
CHAPTER III.
Wilkie and the Trustees' Academy at Edinburgh-His first success-Prize of
ten guineas-His first important work, "Pitlessie Fair"-Its character-
Wilkie's own opinion of its merits Generous conduct of Mr. Kinnear of
Kinloch House-A contrast to this-Wilkie goes to London-Notices of
his early efforts and successes in London-Description of his first great
picture, "The Village Politicians.”

AW
E have previously stated that Wilkie was
sent to the Trustees' Academy at Edin-
burgh in 1799, he being at that time.
fourteen years of age. He had some difficulty at
first in obtaining admission; the secretary, Mr. Thom-
son, not considering his specimen drawings up to the
mark. This hesitancy was so far justified that,
although his designs were indicative of consideration
and thought, the execution was somewhat rough and
slovenly. Still, we might have supposed that the
traces of something out of the ordinary run might
have been visible to the secretary through the alleged
imperfection of surface and outline. Through the
interposition of the Earl of Leven, the difficulty was
BEGINNING HIS COURSE.
33
overcome; and once admitted, he set himself to work
with an energy of application which attracted the
notice of all, and which secured for himself rapid
progress. "The progress he made in art," says the
late Sir William Allan, "was marvellous. Every-
thing he attempted indicated a knowledge far beyond
his years; and he soon took up that position in art
which he maintained to the last. He was always
on the look-out for character; he frequented trysts,
fairs, market-places, where there is generally a large
assemblage of the country-people of all ages, bargain-
ing, or disposing of their various commodities. These
were the sources whence he drew his best materials.
There he found that vigorous variety of character
impressed on his very earliest works, which has
made them take such a lasting hold on the public
mind."
He had taken humble lodgings in Nicolson Street,
and there in a small room he first set up his easel,
and entered upon that course of study from which
the world was to reap so much good fruit. The
parental resources on which he was dependent in
the meantime were very limited, and he lived in
a manner to make the drain upon them as light as
possible.
(612)
3
34
((
THE PITLESSIE FAIR."
""
In 1803 he gained the prize of ten guineas for a
competitive picture of "Calisto in the Bath of Diana.”
This was the first money he had earned, and it is
pleasant to know that the principal part of it was
applied to the purchasing of a present for his mother.
He left the Academy in 1804, and went home to the
mause for some little time-about a year.
It was
there and then that he painted his first picture of
importance, "The Pitlessie Fair." It had been com-
missioned, or at least bespoken while on the easel,
by Mr. Kinnear of Kinloch House, near Auchter-
muchty, who was the first gentleman of the county
to recognize the artist's ability. It is still in the
possession of the family at Kinloch House, and is, as
a matter of course, highly prized.
It is, as the name implies, the representation of a
country fair, and is equally remarkable for variety
of character and truthfulness of rendering. It is
strikingly individual, and contains portraits of all
the worthies of the district who were likely to be
seen at "kirk or market.” It must be regarded
distinctively as a picture of fact and reality. Among
the figures introduced is that of the artist's father,
who is represented as in conversation with the keeper
of a public-house; an association which was by no
•
ITS PERVADING SENTIMENT.
35
means palatable to the worthy clergyman, and which
he was inclined to resent, till the waggish remark of
a friend in the interest of the artist, to the effect
that he was evidently warning the publican against
the dangers of his trade, partially reconciled him
to it.
It
In its pervading sentiment it is, as we should
expect, thoroughly provincial, and is a faithful
reproduction of all that enters into such a scene
original character, with humorous incident and ex-
pression lighting up every part of the canvas.
was painted in 1804, when the artist was nineteen
years of age. He saw it again in 1812; referring
to which, in a letter to Sir George Beaumont, he
says, "The picture of the country fair I saw when
I was last in Scotland; and although it is no doubt
very badly painted, it has more subject and more
entertainment in it than any other three pictures
I have since produced."
It was a circumstance highly creditable to Mr.
Kinnear, that when he learned that Wilkie had
been offered a larger sum for the picture than he
had engaged to pay him, he at once offered to
relinquish all claim upon it, that the artist might
sell it to the best advantage. This, Wilkie with
36
A
CONSIDERATE" PATRON.
equal magnanimity declined, and insisted on his
taking it at the stipulated price. This circum-
stance is all the more worthy of notice, that it
stands out in such marked contrast with what
occurred in connection with Wilkie's next great
picture, "The Village Politicians."
A Scotch nobleman insisted on getting this work
for the paltry sum of fifteen guineas, although he
knew that the artist had received several offers of six
times as much. He alleged that he had bargained
for it at that price when he saw it on the easel.
Wilkie, while denying that there was any agree-
ment,the nobleman having, on the other hand,
declined the purchase, and recommended Wilkie to
consult his friends,-nevertheless allowed him to
have it at fifteen guineas; whereupon his patron
gave him a cheque for double that amount, telling
him at the same time that "he was glad he had
consented, for his own sake, as it would be much
to his advantage that he had implemented the bar-
gain." Marvellous consideration this for the inter-
ests of a poor artist, in the very beginning of his
career, who was positively struggling with poverty,
and who was thus deprived of some seventy pounds
sterling. The matter was much canvassed at the
ESTABLISHED FAME.
37
time in London, not certainly to the advantage of
the peer.
But we are anticipating our narrative. After
having remained for about a year at Cults, and com-
pleted "The Pitlessie Fair," he went to London, as
being likely to furnish a better field for his talents.
This was in May 1805, when he was in his twentieth
year. He was then admitted as a student of the
Royal Academy; and in the same year he painted
(from a sketch which he had made in Edinburgh)
his picture of “The Village Politicians," which took
the art-world of London by storm, and at once estab-
lished his fame. Very shortly before this, indeed, he
had obtained introduction to some persons of influ-
ence in London through Mr. Stoddart, the well-known
pianoforte-maker of the time. The Countess of Mans-
field happened to see "The Pitlessie Fair" (which
Wilkie had taken with him to London) in that gentle-
man's house; and was so much pleased with it that
she desired it might be sent to her house, in order
to be shown to some gentlemen. "The consequence
was," says Wilkie, “that I was sent for next day,
and was received very kindly by her ladyship, who
professed a great desire of getting me introduced to
notice." The earl next sought out the painter in his
38
66
THE SCOTTISH WONDER.”
then obscure abode at 8 Norton Street, Portland
Road, the house of a coal-merchant with whom he
lodged.
""
""
Shortly after this, Sir George Beaumont and Lord
Mulgrave, both great lovers of art, were talking in
eulogistic terms of the Dutch School, when Jackson,
who was present, engaged to find them a young
Scotchman who, he said, was second to no Dutch-
man that ever bore a palette on his thumb." *
"We
must go and see this Scottish wonder," said Sir
George; and they followed Jackson to Wilkie's re-
sidence, when they found "The Village Politicians
all but finished. They were at once struck with its
extraordinary merit, and at the same time charmed
with the modest and genuine simplicity of the artist.
Each gave him a commission for a picture. That of
the Earl of Mulgrave was a small one, entitled "Sun-
day Morning;" that for Sir George was the splendid
work of "The Blind Fiddler." For the former he
was to receive ten guineas, for the latter fifty, which
however was afterwards supplemented. This was
his first acquaintance with Sir George Beaumont,
* It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader of the words of Jackson on an-
other occasion when, writing to Haydon, he said, "There is a raw, tall, pale,
queer Scotchman come-an odd fellow, but there is something in him. He is
called Wilkie."
-
ECHOES OF FAME.
39
who continued his firm and considerate friend as
well as sagacious counsellor to the end of his (Sir
George's) life.
All who saw "The Village Politicians" on the
easel were enthusiastic in its praise. Haydon as-
serted that in dramatic force it rivalled all but
Raphael. It was sent to the Royal Academy Ex-
hibition of 1806; and the admiration which it had
excited in private, was at once endorsed by the public
and universal voice. From the day of the opening
it was almost impossible to get near it. Allan
Cunningham tells us that crowd succeeded crowd
of gazers and wonderers from morning till night.
Congratulations and encomiums came to him from
all quarters, which, however agreeable, did not in
the least disturb his equilibrium. "A faint smile,"
we are told," and a customary shake of the head,
were his only response.
"
There came back upon him echoes of his fame all
the way from the "kingdom" of Fife; and, of the
many that reached him, these, we may be sure,
were not the least acceptable. His venerable father,
after alluding in a letter to the "notices" of the
picture which he had seen in London newspapers,
says: "But the most expressive is in a letter from
40
THE PICTURE, AND ITS PRICE.
Mr. John Campbell of the Inner Temple [afterwards
Lord Campbell, who like Wilkie was the son of a
parish minister in Fife, and who rose to be Lord
Chancellor of the kingdom], to his father in Cupar,
which concludes with observing that Mr. Wilkie's
picture in the Exhibition is certainly worth several
hundred guineas, some say a thousand." He adds:
Mr. Kinnear is particularly anxious that you
should write to him; and Mr. Vial wishes to
know what those noble admirers offer you for
your picture."
In that wish Mr. Vial touched a very weak point,
to which we need scarcely again revert. Thirty
guineas one half of which was considered as given
ex gratia for a picture with the praises of which
the whole island was ringing, was poor encourage-
ment to a young artist struggling with difficulties,
and doubtful of being able to keep a very humble
roof over his head.
This picture is so well known by means of en-
gravings, and is so self-interpreting, that it does
not require much to be said in the way of its eluci-
dation. It embodies that kind of sentiment of the
humbler classes which grew out of the tornado of
the French Revolution, when every village was a
;
(C THE VILLAGE POLITICIANS" DESCRIBED.
41
parliament, and every "smithy" a sort of com-
mittee room of the House of Commons.
The scene
is a Scottish "public," the rendering of which is
characteristic and truthful to its minutest detail.
Apart from the more general furnishings of the
apartment, the deal table and chairs, we have a
variety of articles hung round the walls sugges-
tive of the necessities and usages of the place,—
such as the stable lantern, the saw, the gridiron,
candle-sticks, gill-stoups, spitted herrings, a bird-
cage, with its roof covered with groundsel or chick-
weed (not more to feed the poor creature within
than to keep it cool, we might suppose, in that
warm atmosphere of debate). And then we have
the living accessories, both human and canine: the
old man in the corner reading the papers by him-
self, and not yet, at least, drawn into the vortex;
the group of idlers about the fire; the large collie
of the drover following the child with the oat-
cake, and evidently designing to make it his own,
and the equally unprincipled cur of smaller dimen-
sions who, seizing his opportunity, has his head
deeply thrust into the broth pot, which has tilted
upon its edge, as if more than willing to meet its
views; and the shrewd landlady just entering the
66
42
THE VILLAGE POLITICIANS" DESCRIBED.
door with additional supplies, that the wheel of
patriotic eloquence may not stand still from want
of proper lubrication. These are the surroundings
of the real subject of the picture, and against which
that subject comes out in one of the most spirited
groups for character and action in humble life which
the art of our country has produced.
It is here of course that the principal light falls;
and it enables us to see seated round the table,
which is furnished with those comforts proper to
the occasion, the dramatis persona in the very
climax of debate on the rights of humanity in
general, and the grievances of the British nation
in particular. A cool and self-contained old man,
the long recognized oracle of the village, has been
reading from the newspaper, which is said to have
been the Gazetteer, ordered probably at second-hand
for the village club. Its doctrines, however, do
not go down with all A fierce dogmatist of a
ploughman, with no misgivings as to his infalli-
bility, young in years, but consuming in zeal, with
his limbs apart, his body bent forward, his left
hand down upon the table, with upturned palm,
his right stretched out towards it with forefinger
descending into the palm of the left, is making the

THE VILLAGE POLITICIANS.
66
THE VILLAGE POLITICIANS" DESCRIBED.
45
In
thing palpable to the dullest comprehension, and
is announcing his determination to hold by his
own views in spite of all the Gazetteers that ever
were published. Then we have the weaver, roused
by the unpalatable doctrines of the ploughman into
a state of still greater demonstrativeness. His
patience is "clean gone;" he has pushed back his
bonnet from his brow, a sure sign of defiance, and
he vehemently attempts to interpose his doctrine,
and to arrest the heretical torrent of the other.
this he is supported by the Crispin of the village,
who seems to have been stopped in his process of
whanging" the cheese by his wish to secure a
hearing for his democratic friend. The plough-
man, however, regardless of both, holds on with
his demonstration; while the old man whom he
addresses, holding the Gazetteer in the one hand,
and with an air of senatorial gravity stroking his
chin with the other, is quietly, though keenly,
taking the measure both of the argument and the
((
man.
It was in connection with the impression pro-
duced by this picture that the artist first seems
to have become assured of the success and reputa-
tion which awaited him, and in a letter to his
46
A PROPHETIC SAYING.
father gave utterance to the prophetic words,—“ I
am now redoubling my application, with the sure
hope of success; my ambition has got beyond all
bounds, and I have the vanity to hope that Scot-
land will one day be proud to boast of your affec-
tionate son, David Wilkie."
The air of vanity noticeable on this occasion, but
never again, was excused by circumstances which
rather, indeed, tend to draw him closer to our
hearts. It was only to his father, dearly beloved,
that the sentiment was breathed, and to him at
a time when he much needed assurance from the
lips of his son. It had been all struggle with him
up to this moment, and the clouds had been slow
to unwind themselves from the face of his future.
His pecuniary resources were limited, his attempts
at portrait painting to which, on his first going to
London, he mainly looked for subsistence, had, in
this respect, failed; as he himself remarked, had
luckily" failed; and his being able to remain
in the metropolis had become a matter of serious
question both with himself and his father. It
was surely not wonderful, then, if the universal
admiration which hailed the appearance of "The
Village Politicians" should have made a prophet of
HOW IT WAS FULFILLED.
47
him for the moment; a prophet of his own fame,
indeed, but that evidently more for the comforting of
another than for the gratification of personal pride.
There have been few men more sensitively alive
to the claims of parents and kindred than he was;
and we may readily believe that the pleasure which
he felt at the thought of lifting the cloud from the
manse of Cults, would have more to do with the
writing of the letter than any feelings of a more
strictly personal kind.
And now the
in the cottage
At all events, it proved no idle boast. He has
woven an imperishable chaplet for his native land.
He has given her a place in the realm of art some-
what similar to that which his contemporary and
friend, Sir Walter Scott, has given her in the world
of historical fiction and romance.
shadow of his form is everywhere,
and the hall; in the sports of the peasant and the
ceremonials of the monarch; in the trials of the
poor, the customs of the people, the characteristic
humours and pleasantries of all. Scotland is in-
clined, as she is entitled, though in no narrow or
sectarian spirit, to claim him as her own, and in
Wilkie, as the oracle foretold, recognizes one of
whom she is "proud to boast."
CHAPTER IV.
Wilkie's second great picture exhibited in London-"The Blind Fiddler”-De-
scription of-Engravers of Wilkie's works-His fame fully established---
Visit to his parents-His picture of "Alfred in the Neatherd's Cottage".
Description of--"The Rent Day" described.

AW
ILKIE'S next picture was that of "The
Blind Fiddler,” which, as previously men-
tioned, had been commissioned by Sir
George Beaumont.
although it was unfortunately "hung," its great merit
carried it above all disadvantages. As in the pre-
ceding year "The Village Politicians," so now "The
Blind Fiddler," was the great attraction of the Exhi-
bition. It was considered by many to be an improve-
ment even on the former picture; and was pro-
nounced by Andrew Wilson "one of the most perfect
works of the kind ever produced by a British artist."
It was exhibited in 1807; and
It is intensely human in every part, and in unity
of purpose and effect may be regarded as probably
the finest of the painter's works.
(6 THE BLIND fiddler."
49
He
An old, blind, itinerant musician, with his wife.
and two children, has found his way into the
humble abode of a rural shoemaker. The elder of
the children warms his hands at the fire; the other
is an infant in its mother's lap. There is a felt con-
trast between the two groups-the snug comfort and
"bienness" of the regular inmates of the cottage,
and the careworn uncertainty and meagreness which
belong to the life of the others. The posture and
expression of the fiddler are absolutely perfect.
has taken the instrument from its case; has got
through the preliminary screwing and thrumming;
and now, with his body in poise, and his foot beat-
ing time, he is fairly launched on some lilting air,
which lights up the cottage with a new radiance,
and brings an accession of life to both old and
young. The housewife dandles her latest born on
her knee, who, crowing with delight, stretches out
its hands to its father, who cracks his fingers and
thumbs with responsive glee. The grandfather has
risen from his seat, and stands with his back to the
fire, entering into the scene with that quiet measure
of enthusiasm which befits his years. Two little
girls of the family have suspended their own sports
for the time, and are listening to the strains of the

(612)
4
50
66
THE BLIND FIDDLER."
minstrel, all unconscious as he is of their artless
admiration and wonder; while a third member of
the family-a mischief-loving or a fun-loving urchin,
with less of that delicacy of feeling which belongs
to the gentler sex (and this contrast was probably
intended to be signified by the artist)-with the
bellows for his fiddle and the poker for his bow,
has managed to assume something of the manner of
the fiddler, in the angle of his chin and the curve
of his wrist. His countenance shows that his sport
is not lost upon himself, at least, and that he really
considers it a first-rate joke. Behind him is a girl
who has been drawn away from her wheel, and is
mingling what she hears with what she remembers
of similar strains at some "merry-making" a month
or two ago, at the end "o' hairst;" while the dog
of the family is evidently impressed, though evi-
dently not very sure if he ought to approve.
The distribution of the light is admirably man-
aged; and the furnishings of the apartment and
appurtenances on the walls, mantelpiece, &c., make
up all that quaint interest and homely feeling which
are proper to the scene. The whole is a beautiful
enforcement of the charities of life. This picture
was originally engraved by Burnet, a fellow-student


LAMAN
THE BLIND FIDDLER.
GROWING FAME.
53
with Wilkie in the Academy at Edinburgh, and a
pupil of the late Robert Scott, engraver in Edin-
burgh, and father of the late eminent artist, David
Scott. Both in Burnet and in Raimbach, Wilkie
was fortunate in securing thoroughly competent
transcribers of his works.
By this time the fame of Wilkie, although he
was no more than twenty-two years of age, might
be said to be fully established. Everywhere was he
spoken about; and some of the most illustrious
patrons of art, noblemen and others, consulted to-
gether as to the best means of encouraging a painter
of such wonderful promise. Allan Cunningham,
who was present on the occasion, tells us that one
of the gentlemen remarked that it might not be
prudent to give Wilkie too many commissions at
once, as he would probably exert himself beyond
his strength; besides, that a young man wrought
better from hope than from certainty. To this
remark President West replied," Never in my
whole life have I met with a young artist like
Wilkie; he may be young in years, but he is old in
the experience of his art. He is already a great
artist, so do not hesitate to offer him commissions,
and all the encouragement in your power. I have
54
A VISIT TO SCOTLAND.
the most perfect confidence in his steadiness as well
as in his abilities. I consider him an honour to
his country.
""
At this time Wilkie resolved to pay a visit to
his parents; and for this purpose he set out in a
sailing-vessel for Scotland, and after being a week
on the passage reached the manse of Cults in safety,
though considerably out of sorts owing to the
roughnesses of the voyage. As might have been
expected, the meeting with his parents, just after
such brilliant success, was an eminently happy one.
A justifiable pride in their son blended with tender
affection in giving him welcome. Nor was this
cordiality of reception limited to them; many who
had known him before his going to London-among
others, the noble families of Leven and Crawford,
who had befriended him in his obscurity-rejoiced
with him now that he had risen to fame. The
visit, however, was seriously marred by an attack of
fever, which prostrated him for a time. This pro-
longed his stay in the north beyond the period he
had intended. He returned to London in October.
He painted about this time "Alfred in the Neat-
herd's Cottage." It was commissioned by Alexander
Davison, Esq., and was intended to be one of a
A COMMISSIONED PICTURE.
55
series of pictorial illustrations of the history of
England. As, in addition to this, it was con-
siderably out of his former track, he was more than
usually anxious about it. Allan Cunningham men-
tions that "he considered and re-considered the
story; drew the figures singly, then grouped them;
and, not content with calling in the living model
for each, to secure the truth of the posture, he
modelled the whole in clay, that he might ascertain
the light and shade of the composition." The result
was a picture of decided merit, though scarcely so
captivating as his previous ones. Some were of
opinion that his Alfred was wanting in regal air;
while Sir George Beaumont suggested to the painter
beforehand that he should impart to him something
of a startled appearance, as if led by the surprise of
the moment to the verge of betraying himself. To
this suggestion the artist did not accede, and we
are not sure that his judgment was not the truest
after all. There is a quiet dignity about Alfred
(who, by the way, is a study from the artist's own
face, and was considered an excellent likeness at the
time) which, while in accord with his character,
is sufficiently pronounced for the occasion; and the
look of guilty confusion on account of his mistake,



56
ALFRED IN THE NEATHERD'S COTTAGE.
the proofs of which are only too palpable in the
retreat of the dog with one cake in its mouth, and
the rushing of the girl to the fire to rescue the re-
mainder, this look is given in a manner which
leaves nothing to be desired. The neatherd is
aware of Alfred's identity, and has clad him in a
peasant's dress, the better to conceal him from the
Danes, who at this time overran the kingdom. He
is entering the cottage with a bundle of fagots on
his head, in time to hear the volley of his indignant
dame, who, pointing to the burning cakes, which
Alfred had undertaken to watch in her absence, ex-
claims, "If you cannot turn a cake, you can eat
one fast enough!" Besides the girl at the fire, there
is another at the opposite end of the apartment
kneading a further supply, and who seems to be
rendered insensible to the harsh tones of the house-
wife by the more tender accents which a swain
beside her breathes into her ear.
On the whole, the picture must be pronounced a
success. It pleased the purchaser, and it pleased
the artist, although, for some reason or other, he
kept it back from that year's Exhibition. The price
of it was one hundred and fifty guineas.
In his next great picture, which he painted for

ALFRED IN
THE NEATHERD'S COTTAGE.
"" THE RENT DAY."
59
the Earl of Mulgrave, we find the artist again
among the more ordinary scenes of life,-laying his
finger on the universal heart, albeit in connection
with a matter of stern and prosaic necessity. His
position here is the great battle-point of modern life
money. Cash, or no cash, is the key-note; and
from this he runs over the gamut of human interest
and feeling, eliciting a music harsh or tender, as
the case may be, yet all wrought into a unity of
truth in its ultimate meaning and effect.
The title of this picture was "The Rent Day."
"I've noticed on our laird's court day,
An' mony a time my heart's been wae,
Puir tenant bodies, scant o' cash,
Hoo they maun thole a factor's snash;
He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear,
He'll apprehend them, poind their gear,-
While they maun stan' wi' aspect humble,
An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble."
Such was Burns's rendering of the subject; and
Wilkie, with great variety of incident, and in the
true spirit of the scene, has photographed it deeply
on the sensibilities of all. The scene is a room in
his lordship's mansion, where the factor is seated at
a table, amply buttressed by leases and other papers
-whatever is necessary to establish the least tittle
of his claims. The virtues of tenant-nature are
60
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
nicely discriminated by him; for, while the de-
faulters are allowed to sit in all forms of perplexity
and dejection, those who have come up to the mark
are allowed their discount in the shape of a liberal
dinner.
The incident at the paying-table seems to re-
present a young man earnestly pleading, on behalf
of a much older one, for some deduction, on ground
which seems to him more than sufficient, but in
regard to which the steward shows something like
"dulness in the uptake." He evidently cannot see
it, and the young man's eloquence is likely to be
vain. Among the other figures introduced we have
two farmers seated near the middle of the hall, one
bent with years, and "fashed wi' a sair host"
(Anglicé, troubled with a severe cough). There
seems, however, to be a forced and artificial em-
phasis put into his cough, as if part of it at least
were got up for the occasion, being intended to
excite compassion, and lessen the storm which his
shortcomings are likely to provoke. The other is
perplexedly gnawing the head of his staff.
Behind this pair stand two other men, in deep
converse on the hardness of the times in general,
and the horrors of rent-day in particular. Then we

Uக
THE RENT DAY.
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
63
have a touching tale of desolation and bereavement
suggested by the form of a young widow, more in
the foreground, with one child at her feet and
another on her knee. There is a touch of pathos.
in the idea of the infant playing with the key
which the mother (no longer able to keep such a
comfortable house over her head) is about to give
up to the factor. It is one of those little incidents
which a true artist does not overlook, as not only
giving reality to the scene, but as calculated to set
the imagination aworking as to the possible future
of the poor widow and her fatherless children.
Behind this widow stands a man, who is counting
up on his fingers the various items of charge-rent,
taxes, &c.—and who seems not a little puzzled by
the complication; while nearer the steward is
another, who, having just been relieved of his rent,
is troubled with the horrible idea that he has paid
too much, and is making a new calculation on the
back of his receipt. There is a whimsical expression
in his countenance of incipient wrath, as he seems
to arrive at the conclusion that he has actually
been cheated.
The action at the dining-table is that of men who
feel that they are "out of the wood,"—that they
64
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
have done their duty, and are now fairly entitled
to their reward. A well got-up butler, with an
expression of amazement at the capacities of the
guests, is in the act of drawing a cork; and a dog
sits near the table, with his nose at the angle of
eager expectation-for did he not help to pay the
rent by his assiduous labours on the hill-side?
There is a plate-warmer before the fire, which is
suggestive of the dinner of the steward; while a
well-fed poodle, too proud or too fat to dine with
the vulgarians, rests sleepily on the rug till the more
aristocratic dinner of his master is announced.
This picture, so different from its predecessor, yet
so full of character and feeling, gave crowning assur-
ance of the resources of Wilkie, and put an end
to that sort of envious criticism which talked of
"Wilkie's pauper subjects" soon running dry, and
which had no higher origin than that mortification
which is natural to a certain class of competitors
when they are distanced in the race.
}
CHAPTER V.
Occasional portrait-painting-"The Card-Players"-Reference to a correspond-
ence with Dr. Chalmers-Description of "The Only Daughter," "The
Jew's Harp," "The Cut Finger," "The Village Ale-house”— - Temporary
illness of the painter-Resides for a time at Hampstead-Visits Sir George
Beaumont at Dunmow in Essex-Paints "The Gipsy Mother"-Returns
to London-Elected Royal Academician-"The Wardrobe Ransacked."

W
HILE Wilkie's predilections were entirely
in the direction of such dramatic repre-
sentations of life and character as the
above, he found time, and, alas! also necessity, for
occasional portraits. These being more liberally
paid, in proportion to time and work, were of im-
portance to him at this stage of his career.
"The
Rent Day," for example, was followed by a portrait
of Lady Mary Fitzgerald, painted for the Earl of
Mulgrave; and that, again, by a portrait of the
Marchioness of Lansdowne, painted for the marquis.
"The Card-Players" had been finished shortly be-
fore this, and was the only picture which he sent
to the year's Exhibition. It is intended as a reproof
(612)
5
•
66
(6 THE CARD-PLAYERS.”
to rustic gambling-decidedly inferior to his pre-
ceding pictures, but still not without many of his
characteristic qualities. Much more than in his
previous work, he affects the embodiment of Eng-
lish character and sentiment here, which may pos-
sibly account for its comparative inferiority, since
it was scarcely to be expected that he should have
equal felicity in this as in that other sphere which
was, in a manner, native to him. "The Card-
Players" was painted for the Duke of Gloucester,
at the stipulated price of fifty guineas; to which
sum, however, the duke generously added one hun-
dred more.
After mentioning this fact in a letter to the Rev.
James Lister, he continues: "I have now advanced.
another picture a great way towards completion, the
subject of which is 'A Sick Lady visited by her
Physician;' but as I have felt the inconvenience of
painting a picture for a particular person, or for a
stated price, I intend to keep this one completely
disengaged till it is finished, when I will dispose of
it in the way that shall be the most to my advan-
tage." The picture referred to was afterwards
called, and is now well known as, "The Only
Daughter." He was in a state of great activity at
TWO JOURNAL ENTRIES.
67
the time of this picture. Along with it, he was
going on with two others, namely, "The Cut
Finger" and "The Jew's Harp,”—while he was
mingling considerably, in the evenings, with the
élite of London society, and carrying on correspond-
ence to a considerable extent. Among his corres-
pondents was the late celebrated Dr. Chalmers, who
had requested his assistance in negotiating the sale
of the copyright of one of his works. In this, how-
ever, he had poor success. There are numerous
entries relative to it in his journal, which he began
about this time, and which abounds with most inter-
esting notices of his daily life and labours, as well
as with valuable notes on art. Whatever the par-
ticular work of Dr. Chalmers may have been, he
was fairly baffled in his endeavours to dispose of it.
The last two journal entries are to this effect:
"Went to Longman and Rees, and proposed that
they should purchase the copyright of Chalmers'
work. Was told by them that, till it was noticed
by the reviews, there was little chance of the book
selling." Then, two days after, he says: "Wrote
to Chalmers to tell him of my bad success with his
work;" and with this the matter drops from his
journal. It is singular to think of this difficulty in
-
68
66 THE ONLY DAUGHTER" DESCRIBED.
getting a beginning for what ultimately grew so
large. But, to return to the picture. Although
one of inimitable simplicity in meaning and effect,
it was the fruit of much thought and painstaking
on the part of the artist. A London physician of
eminence, Sir Anthony Carlisle, of whom it is said
to be an excellent likeness, is seated at the bed-
side of an "only daughter," who is stricken and
prostrate under wasting and deadly disease. He
holds the fevered pulse in his hand, and is carefully
marking the progress of the malady, while he is as
carefully avoiding the gaze of the mother, who is
looking to him for hope with almost the eye or
despair. The father, with deeply-troubled look, has
risen from his table and Bible, and has advanced a
step, taking his shadow with him, which is thrown
upon the wall, as if in prophecy of the more ter-
rible shadow which is not far off. The "Daughter"
is the least concerned of the group.
Her eye is
languid, and, with gentle passiveness, she yields
her hand wearily to the physician, for—
"What is life that we should weep?
Why make we such ado?"
She is such a one as, every way, and emphatically,
no parent would
"willingly let die."
willingly let die."
Yet death is

THE JEW'S HARP
THE JEW'S HARP.
""
99
71
is
It
evidently in the cup; the "inexorable hand’
upon her, and the "unspeakable change" is near.
But the Bible is there, and it is not all gloom.
is a picture of death, and of immortality. It has
some touching accessories. The dog looks up in-
quiringly to the bed. The bird has its cage dark-
ened, for this is no time for its song. Its music
would be dissonance to that young spirit fast ebb-
ing away towards the music of the celestials—and
to those breaking hearts, around whom is narrow-
ing hourly the circle of desolation.
Much about this time he completed two other pic-
tures which he had been carrying on simultaneously
with "The Only Daughter," namely, "The Jew's
Harp”
" and "The Cut Finger." "The Jew's Harp"
narrates a homely incident in a very simple and
artless way.
A boy and girl-brother and sister,
we suppose-have been to the fair, and have
brought home with them the little instrument which
gives its name to the picture. They are modestly
proud of their purchase, and are visibly pleased as
their father good-humouredly tries its merits and
capacity. The accessories of this simple work are
both appropriate in themselves and delicately ren-
dered. There is a dog, of course; for Wilkie was
72
(6 THE CUT FINGER."
so fond of linking this favourite animal with scenes
of human interest, that it is as difficult to get a
“Wilkie" without a dog as it is to find a Wouver-
mans" without a horse.
A
"The Cut Finger" is equally true to nature.
little boy, who has been busy fitting the mast to
a boat he has made, cuts his finger in the process,
and both lungs and eyes give proof of his disgust
at the catastrophe. His visage is most rueful; his
tears are abundant, and are in capital contrast with
the staid and careful anxiety of the old woman who
is practising her cottage leech-craft in tying up the
wounded finger. Over the shoulder of the dame
looks, somewhat shrinkingly, a younger sister of the
victim; while a handmaid takes from his grasp the
treacherous weapon which has brought him to grief,
This picture was purchased by Mr. Whitbread, who
called it "The Young Navigator;" but the artist,
as well as others, thought it would scarcely do to
associate with the brave tars of Old England, and
as if typical of them, one who was ready to mingle
his tears with his own blood-and so the original
title was resumed, and it has always been known as
"The Cut Finger."
""
The next work of importance to which he directed

THE CUT FINGER.
66 THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL.”
75
his attention was that which he was accustomed to
call "The Ale-house Door," but the name of which
was afterwards changed-not for the better-into
"The Village Festival." This was the fourth of
what might be designated his series of national pic-
tures. It was one of his most elaborate works, and
in the countless allusions to it in his diary while it
was in progress we are almost painfully impressed
with the conscientious and laborious efforts of the
artist to make the most and the best of whatever
subject he had on hand. Of the history of this,
Allan Cunningham remarks that, "from a rustic
group carousing at a change-house door, it gradually
grew and expanded into a work taking a wide
range of manners and character, and to a joyous
image of social England, adding some of those moral
touches which admonish rather than rebuke."
the picture itself, he says: "It exhibits England in
her most joyous mood-tippling brown ale of her
own brewing, and making merry under the shadow
of broad-leaved elms of her own planting. Her
sons, under the influence of the spigot and faucet,
bid the holiday hours fly past, till quiet glee bursts
into noisy humour; and her daughters, touched with
mirth, and perhaps with liquor, take part in the
Of
76
ILLNESS OF WILKIE.
scene, only to watch till their mates begin to fall
from sociality into sottishness, that they may move
them home by gentle force and good-humoured per-
suasiveness.' For this picture, which was painted
for Mr. Angerstein, the painter received the sum of
eight hundred guineas. It was painted in 1810.
""
Shortly after the completion of the above work
Wilkie fell ill, partly owing to some annoyances
which he received, but principally to incessant study
and work. As a means of arresting the weakness
which he felt creeping upon him, he took lodgings
at Knightsbridge; a locality which, with freer air,
furnished him with better facilities for morning and
evening walks. On the weakness increasing, how-
ever, he solicited the professional advice of his friend,
Dr. Baillie, to whom he stated that "he could
neither think nor paint for a quarter of an hour
at a time without experiencing a giddiness of head
which almost amounted to fainting."
The sympathy of friends was largely evoked by
this temporary weakness. Sir George Beaumont
wished him to visit him and Lady Beaumont at
Coleorton; Lord Mulgrave offered to take him to
his house at Tunbridge; and his parents wished
him to repair to the manse at Cults. But for none

m
THE VILLAGE FESTIVAL.
12. A D
THE GIPSY MOTHER.
""
79
of these journeys was he able at the time, and Dr.
Baillie advised him to take lodgings in the vicinity
of London. Joanna Baillie and her sister, on hear-
ing of this from their brother, immediately wrote,
placing at his disposal their villa at Hampstead, with
an attendance of servants besides; they themselves
setting out on a two months' tour, professedly for
their own benefit, but in reality for the purpose of
clearing the house for the debilitated though still
very young artist, for he was only in his twenty-
sixth year.
His health so greatly improved by his
residence at Hampstead, that in the course of a few
months he visited Sir George Beaumont at his seat
at Dunmow, in Essex, where he remained with much
pleasure and profit for upwards of a month. While
here he painted "The Gipsy Mother," the origin of
which is particularly noticed in his journal. He
had begun to paint one day, when he received a mes-
sage from Lady Beaumont that she wished him to
With
paint a gipsy woman who was in the house.
this request he at once complied. He sketched in
the head; and as her child lay sucking at the breast,
he put it in also. It has been objected to this pic-
ture, that the hands are too much those of a lady;
but notwithstanding this, which is not a very grave
80
ELECTED ROYAL ACADEMICIAN.
objection, it is a grand work, having in the whole
countenance, but in the eyes especially, much of that
wild, dark, and lawless expression which is so pro-
perly associated with, as it is characteristic of, gipsy
blood. He returned to London with health greatly
improved. Dr. Baillie advised him to remove from
Portland Street to King's Road, Chelsea, where the
air was milder, and where he might indulge himself
in long walks. His art-life began to return upon
him in defiance of the protestations of friends; and
he set about re-touching some of his old pictures,
and planning out new ones. He also painted for
Lord Mulgrave sketches of "The Card-Players,"
"The Jew's Harp," "The Cut Finger," "The Rent
Day," "The Blind Fiddler," and "The Village Poli-
ticians," some of which are said to have nearly all
the excellence of the original works.
Just about this time a vacancy occurred in the
list of Royal Academicians, by the death of Sir
Francis Bourgeois, and Wilkie was elected to fill his
place. He was now in his twenty-seventh year.
It was an honour which he scarcely expected at
so early an age; but he received it with real though
undemonstrative satisfaction. In the next Exhibi-
tion (1811) he exhibited an early sketch of "The
AN UNPLEASANT CIRCUMSTANCE.
81
Penny Wedding," and the picture of "The Game-
keeper," which he had painted for Sir George Beau-
mont while at Dunmow.
While going on with "The Village Festival," he
worked occasionally at another, of inferior import-
ance. This was a man putting on a girl's cap;
or, as it was afterwards called, "The Wardrobe Ran-
sacked." Sir George Beaumont suggested for a
name, "No Fool like an Old Fool;" a title so appro-
priate that it is difficult to understand why it was
not adopted.
With this picture, a very unpleasant circumstance
is associated; which was nothing less than his being
advised by the Council of the Academy to withdraw
it from the Exhibition, after it had been sent, on
the alleged ground that it was not likely to sustain
his high reputation. There were in the same Exhi
bition some pictures by Edward Bird,—pictures of a
somewhat similar character to those of Wilkie,-and
it was thought that he would not compare favour-
ably with him in this case. He was accordingly
informed by Sir George Beaumont that President
West, and other members of the Council, were of
opinion that it would be judicious to withdraw it.
Wilkie, although not convinced, bowed to the
(612)
6
82
THE WARDROBE RANSACKED."
opinion of the Council, and withdrew his picture
accordingly. It was afterwards sought after by
several connoisseurs, and was sold to Lord de Dun-
stanville for one hundred pounds. The conduct of
the Council was widely canvassed, and generally con-
demned; some going so far as to ascribe their pro-
cedure to envy,-for which supposition, however,
there does not appear to have been any ground.
The picture is, no doubt, a little out of the way in
point of subject, yet it is spirited and amusing.
The old fool is careering about the room with his
hat in his hand, the girl's favourite cap on his head,
and her silk cloak over his shoulders. The girl,
evidently annoyed, and not far from tears, is follow-
ing in pursuit; and the little dog, sympathizing with
the girl, is looking at the old blockhead with an
unmistakable expression of canine contempt.
CHAPTER VI.
Visits his parents in Scotland-Returns to London, and resides at Kensington—.
Letter to his sister- Collective exhibition of his pictures-Unpleasant
incident connected with this exhibition-Picture of "Blind Man's Buff"-
Description of-Death of Wilkie's father-Removal of his mother and
sister to London-Picture of "The Piper" described-Pictures of "The
Letter of Introduction" and "The Refusal" described Visits Paris--
'Distraining for Rent" and "The Rabbit on the Wall" described—Visits
the Netherlands-On his return is arrested at Calais for sketching.
""

N consequence of the declining state of his
father's health, Wilkie was again induced
to pay a visit to the manse of Cults,
where he arrived in the latter part of August 1811,
finding his parent very considerably changed for the
worse. He remained till the latter end of October,
when he returned to London, took up his abode
at Kensington, and resumed his labours as an artist.
In a letter to his sister he says:-"Everybody I
meet with compliments me on the improvement of
my looks, and I am taking all the means in my
power to retain my improved appearance. I dine,
as formerly, at two o'clock, paint two hours in the
84
LETTER TO HIS SISTER.
forenoon, and two hours in the afternoon, and take a
short walk in the park, or through the fields, twice
a day. I have been now three weeks in this place;
but very few people know of my return, so that I
have all my time to myself. I expect to begin the
oil sketch of Blind Man's Buff' very soon. In the
evening I go on with the mathematics, which I take
great delight in; and I have also begun a system of
algebra, a study I should like to learn something
of too."
The picture above alluded to was destined to be
his next great work of national and popular interest.
It was painted for the Prince Regent, afterwards
George IV., at the price of five hundred guineas.
Commenced towards the close of 1811, it was not
finished till 1813, when the artist was twenty-eight
years of age. It immediately rose to as high a level
of popularity as any of his previous works.
It was
greatly admired by the prince, who, with all his
faults, was not without some sensibility with regard
to art.
It may be proper to mention in passing, that a
little before this Wilkie conceived and carried into
effect the project of exhibiting his pictures in a
collective form. For this purpose he hired a room
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT.
85
in Pall Mall, and having gathered together his prin-
cipal works, he placed them in that apartment. It
does not seem to have been a good speculation in a
pecuniary point of view, while a rather unpleasant
incident occurred in connection with it. The lessee
of the hall had been due the proprietor a sum of
money for rent, in consequence of which the latter
deemed himself justified in placing an arrest on one
of the exhibited pictures. It was in vain that Wilkie
reminded him that he had only sub-rented the pre-
mises for a few months from the lessee, and that he
had nothing to do with his debts.
to have had some semblance of
though certainly none of justice.
£32 before the picture could be released. Out of this
incident grew the picture," Distraining for Rent," one
of the most effective and touching of all his works.
The matter seems
law in its support,
Wilkie had to pay
"Blind Man's Buff," although in an unfinished
state, was sent to this exhibition, and attracted gene-
ral attention there; and when afterwards seen in
its completed condition, the previous judgment was
fully confirmed. It requires very little description,
the subject being so familiar, the picture so well
known by means of engravings, and the story told
in so distinct and luminous a manner.
86
(6 BLIND MAN'S BUFF" DESCRIBED.
The figure in which the interest of the game
centres for the time is conspicuous enough, with his
bandaged vision, his seeking hands, and his feet feel-
ing their way with that caution and sensitiveness
proper to the case,-a figure which, in its expression
of sudden blindness, has been compared to that of
Elymas the sorcerer, in Raphael's cartoon. The
various incidents appropriate to the humour of this
rural game are grouped around this central figure in
the most artistic yet simple and natural manner.
There is much movement, of course, and half-sup-
pressed merriment everywhere, all manner of ven-
turesome tricks and harmless persecution being prac-
tised on the hero of the handkerchief. He is pulled
one way and pushed another; jerking motions,
shuffling noises, half-stifled giggles, and sharp screams
of fear or surprise, being the elements through which
he has to grope his way to victory. There is inci-
dent, too, of a soft and tender description mingling
episodically with the occasion; as, for example, in
the youth who is not so much shunning the grip of
the blind man as courting that of a young woman at
hand, and in the girl cowering by the side of a settle,
less to escape seizure by the enemy than to secure
the attentions of two lovers, who fail not to make
DEATH OF WILKIE'S FATHER.
87
the most of their opportunity. Then, again, we have
two little boys, who have damaged their shins upon
an overturned chair; and a jolly Crispin, who, with
both arms extended, draws himself up against the
wall, all unconscious that he is squeezing bitter tears
out of a youngster who has got jammed up behind
him; and, conspicuous above all, there is a silent,
shoeless figure, who is making his retreat by the top
of a bench, rendering himself, for the nonce, as much
of a shadow as possible. Each of these episodes is
unperceived by any but the several actors themselves,
so truly is the dramatic element of the work sustained;
unless perhaps by the old crossing-sweeper, who,
drawn from his professional duties by the merriment
and din, looks in at the open door and surveys the
whole. The animation and humour, the grouping
and incident, the naturalness and variety, and the
clear, firm, vivid colouring, make this one of the
finest pictures of manners which British art has
produced.
Shortly before this Wilkie lost his venerable father,
who died at Cults, December 1, 1812. An imme-
diate consequence of this event, and one intimately
connected with his comfort, was that he now received
his mother and sister to reside with him in London.
88
THE PIPER."
His feelings may be gathered from his own words.
"If he were desired," he said, "to name the happiest
hour of his life, it was when he first saw his honoured
mother and his much-loved sister sitting beside him
while he was painting." And the picture which he
was working at, when he first enjoyed that happy
sight, was an intensely Scottish one,-it was The
Piper." It was painted for Sir Francis Freeling.
It may have been the presence of his mother and
sister that suggested the idea, but so it is that part
of the gable of the kirk of Cults is seen over the
right shoulder of the Celtic musician. The "piper"
is evidently a man who is aware of his own import-
ance, and who is by no means disposed to depreciate
his profession. He is wholly of the North, in hands,
cheek, eye, and general configuration. It is said that
he was originally arrayed in tartan; but at that time
tartan was not so popular in England as, from vari-
ous causes, it has since become, and, in deference to
the then existing feeling, the tartan was made to give
way to the Lowland dress-a circumstance which,
for the sake of the picture, is rather to be regretted.
Although he is not actually engaged in playing, the
piper" has his fingers on the stops-not without
a certain dignity and sense of power, which is amply
("

THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.
THE LETTER OF INTRODUCTION."
91
sustained by the leathery character of his cheeks,
which would have done no discredit to Anthony van
Corlear, the trumpeter of Peter the Headstrong, and
which are evidently equal to any pressure.
His next picture was painted for Samuel Dobree,
Esq., a London merchant and liberal patron of art,
who paid the artist two hundred and fifty guineas
for it. It was entitled, "The Letter of Introduction,"
and was the reproduction of the artist's own experi-
ence in one of his first attempts to make his way in
the world of London. The miserable virtuoso whom
the painter has here photographed as a warning to
future generations, was a small notability of the name
of Caleb Whiteford, who would fain have had the
reputation of being a patron of art, if he could have
had it free of trouble and expense. When Wilkie
waited upon him with a letter of introduction, he
looked fearfully askance upon him, and asked him
his age. Wilkie, who was proverbially deliberate in
his answers, hesitated a moment; when Caleb ex-
claimed, "Ha, introduce a man to me who knows
not how old he is!"
This gives the key-note of the picture. Caleb
wishes to be rid of him, and no doubt he will be
able to find ways and means. He has seized his first
92
A SERVICE TO SOCIETY.
chance. The timid, unsophisticated provincialism of
the lad, is in fine contrast with the pettish, con-
tracted, shrivelled selfishness of the "small-big" man,
which shines out from all the angles and furrows of
his countenance, and runs down through all the lines.
of his figure to his very toes. Perhaps he was him-
self once a frank and generous young man; but he
has lived through a process which has changed all
that, and left him the miserable shred of humanity
which he now is. The dog, too, has taken its colour
from its master, and has a keen nose for the intrusion
of poverty. There is evidently no appeal to him.
The whole is an embodiment of too common an inci-
dent in our civilization. There are few young men,
with their way to make in the world, who have not
encountered some similar incident in their experience,
and in whom, therefore, it does not touch a sympa-
thetic chord. By such pictures as this the artist
renders a direct service to society. Let future Calebs
beware of such a gibbeting as this to an ignominious
immortality.
Almost simultaneously with the above picture
he finished that of "Duncan Gray,"-or, as he per-
sistently called it, "The Refusal,"—both of which he
sent to the same year's Exhibition. It was purchased

DUNCAN GRAY.
THE REFUSAL" DESCRIBED.
95
by Dr. Baillie for the sum of three hundred and thirty
guineas, but was afterwards exchanged for that of
"The Pedlar." It now forms one of the "Sheep-
shanks" collection. To its value as a work of art
it has the added interest of containing a portrait of
the late eminent academician Mulready, who sat for
the redoubtable Duncan himself; while the mother of
the artist appears in the old woman of the piece, the
mother of the heroine. The story is told to perfection.
"Meg" is the very ideal of a "wilfu' woman," and
her "dourness" is expressed in a manner to kill hope.
Duncan's attitude and look are those of a shockingly
ill-used man, in whom, however, we can imagine a
sense of injury passing into proud resolve; while his
dog, who crouches under his chair, seems, with all
his sympathy for his master, to mingle an expression
of annoyance that that master should put himself in
such an undignified position. The parents of " Meg”
are doing what they can with their "Ailsa Craig "
of a daughter, on behalf of Duncan, but with small
appearance of success. Allan Cunningham says: "The
old woman's look of gentle intercession, for it is
plain that she opens not her lips, is one of the finest
things in modern art."
The picture for which Dr. Baillie exchanged
96
THE PEDLAR.”
"Duncan Gray,"-namely, "The Pedlar,"-refers to
a state of society and a form of commercial life which
have all but completely passed away. The itinerant
merchant of fifty or sixty years ago, jogging along
with his pack in rural districts, and making his calls
upon customers with his varied goods-gathering
gossip at one house, and dispensing it at another-
always welcomed by the female inmates of the dwell-
ing at which he halted, though seldom acceptable
to the "paterfamilias," was by no means an unin-
teresting or unpicturesque figure. He has now
disappeared before the all-intrusive railway, which
makes access to even the most out-of-the-way places
quick and easy, bringing both persons and parcels
to the doors of all. But this just leads us to value
more "The Pedlar" of Wilkie, as representing a
state of things which, without the help of this pic-
ture, most of the present generation would find it
difficult to realize. The "pedlar" was not only the
rural merchant of the period, but to a certain extent
the postman as well. He was the connecting link
between large cities and secluded villages, farm-
houses and other isolated abodes of the population ;
and many a time he was intrusted with letters of a
tender and confidential description, so that, what

Won
THE PEDLAR


THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
99
The
with his mercantile and what with his Mercurial
functions, his appearance was generally greeted with
welcome. The picture by Wilkie is remarkably
good; and we do not wonder at Dr. Baillie's desire
to possess it. It needs almost no explanation; it is
self-interpreting. The pedlar has opened his pack,
and the piece of dress displayed extorts admiration
from all the "woman-kind" of the household.
dramatic interest is at its height. A young girl
closely inspects a part of the dress, subjecting it
apparently to a testing process. The old grand-
mother is drawn from her spinning-wheel to give
her opinion; the mother has made up her mind to
the desirableness of making the purchase; the elder
daughter looks beseechingly towards the head of the
house, with whom the decision lies, and who, smok-
ing his pipe as a solatium to his feelings under the
attack, puts his hand into his pocket-the part of
him more immediately threatened as if trying to
reconcile himself to his fate; while the vendor ex-
hibits an admirable suavity combined with a pre-
tended indifference as to the result. The grouping
is excellent, and the varied action and expression of
the personages introduced result in a unity of effect
which makes the picture a very perfect embodiment
Jorm

100
A VISIT TO PARIS.
of the incident in its related circumstances and
feelings.
At this time (May 1814-the artist twenty-nine
years old) Wilkie paid a somewhat lengthened visit
to Paris, and took up his abode in the Rue St.
Bénoit. He did not seem to take very naturally to
the French "ways," and he met with some things
which did not raise his opinion of the French
people. In a letter to his sister, he says that he
was very much mortified on asking his hostess, when
he first arrived, if she had ever heard of L'Ecosse, or
Scotland, to find that she did not know there was
any such place in existence.
This, we should say, was a very small ground of
mortification, but with one who was so intensely
national as Wilkie it could not be without its effect.
He visited the various picture-galleries and other
objects of interest in the great metropolis of fashion,
and on his return declared that he had been more
astonished than instructed by his visit to Paris. We
can easily understand that the classical style of David
and his disciples, then in the ascendant in the French
capital, would not stir much sympathy in an artist
se devoted to the expression of simple character
and manners as Wilkie was.
Maou

((
CONCERNING DISTRAINING FOR RENT.”
101
He returned to London early in July, to find
that his "Letter of Introduction" had met with
decided and general acceptance. As usual, this only
led to further endeavours. He concentrated his
attention on his splendid work "Distraining for
Rent," a subject suggested, as already stated, by
the fact of an arrest having been put on his " Village
Festival" for another man's debt, at the exhibition.
of his works in Pall Mall.
•
In this subject he at once recognized one which
called for the full application of his powers, and
he devoted himself to it accordingly. He studied the
subject, in parts, and in the aggregate, with the
utmost care, and the result was quite satisfactory.
The power of the work was acknowledged by all-
some even saying that it tended to weaken the
authority of law, by enlisting the sympathies too
strongly in favour of defaulters, and against officials.
But this would be assigning to the pencil an unrealiz-
able power.
If it tend to temper in some degree
the actual exercise of authority, that will be all.
Pecuniary interest will always carry the day over
such sentimental appeals. In such a cause as this,
the weaker party, though erring, may well be allowed
to have the sympathy and support of art.

102
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
And that there was error at the root of all the
misery here portrayed is abundantly obvious.
"The
house," says Allan Cunningham, "is not without
warnings of what is coming. The idle jack, the
burnt-out fire, the empty bee-hive, are so many
intimations of mismanagement or slackness of in-
dustry. Though the visit of the bailiff, with the
lawyer's clerk, has thrown the house and all it con-
tains into violent commotion, such a visit, it is plain,
could not be wholly unexpected." The full shock
of the calamity descends, of course, on the head of
the husband and father. Leaning forward with his
elbow on the table, and his head upon his hand,
he presents to our view the picture of a man over-
weighted with sorrow-broken and crushed in body
and spirit almost beyond hope of recall. His little
boy, who takes hold of his coat and would pull him
out of his sorrow, is not regarded; or if regarded at
all, only adds poignancy to his grief. The founda-
tions are sinking from beneath the poor man, and
the chaos without is responded to by utter subsi-
dence and collapse within.
The mother of the family is in an almost equally
piteous case. Neighbours are sympathizing with
her, and offering assistance, while she seems in the

(C
THE RABBIT ON THE WALL."
103
act of swooning away. There are angry faces, and
clenched fists, and flashing eyes, on the part of the
onlookers—a prudent cobbler holding them back
from such open violence as would only serve to make
matters worse; while, in the midst of all this, the
merciless officials go on with the inventory of the
furniture, with as much coolness and callousness
as if they were dealing with inanimate matter,
instead of anguished and quivering human hearts.
This fine picture was purchased by the Directors
of the British Institution for the sum of six hundred
guineas.
He
Wilkie, who was never idle so long as he had
physical ability to work, immediately began on a
new picture of a very different complexion, but
This was
one equally successful in its own way.
"The Rabbit on the Wall." It is in his finest style
of handling, and was so considered by himself.
says, in a letter to his sister,-"In many points I
have succeeded better than common in the painting."
Its arrangement is natural, easy, and without any
affectation. The expression of the various figures
and countenances is true to the subject, having all
its humour without a particle of caricature; while
the management of the light and shade is subtle

104
CRITICISM ON THE PICTURE.
""
and skilful in the highest degree. In this picture
the simple gaiety and homely humour of the artist
come out in a very pleasing manner.
It is a pic-
ture," says one, "that has a charm to touch the
misanthrope, and win him back to life and happy
thoughts. No one can look on it without feeling for
the time a merrier and a wiser man.' It is a cheap
and rare frolic of the hearth, which binds hearts
together in a community of harmless wonder and
delight. There is the youngest child in an ecstasy
which threatens a leap from its place; there are the
elder ones holding each other as they gaze, with
a mixture of pleasure and awe; and there is the
necromancer himself—the paterfamilias
the paterfamilias --conscious
of the success of his trick, looking cunningly aside
at the simple illusion, with a half-comical enjoyment
of the sensation which his dexterity is causing
around the hearth. These are things, trifling though
they be, which make one family of us all; things
in which the commonest incidents become trans-
figured with the light of a wider significance, and
in which the fine humanity of the painter invokes
the magic of his art to tighten the cords of love,
and to give permanence and power to the charities
of life.

THE RABBIT ON THE WALL



•
WILKIE IN THE NETHERLANDS.
107
This picture was purchased by John Turner, Esq.,
for two hundred guineas.
Shortly after this-namely, in September 1816
our artist, partly for the benefit of his health,
which was by no means in a satisfactory state, and
partly for the purpose of studying pictures of the
Dutch and Flemish Schools, set out with Raimbach,
the engraver, to the Netherlands, and made a careful
In
inspection of its galleries and museums of art.
his letters to his brother Thomas and other friends
he recounts the various steps of his journey, and
describes the impressions which the various picture-
"What
galleries he visited produced upon him.
struck me most," he says, "in my journey in Hol-
land, was the perfect resemblance everything bore
to what I have seen in the Dutch pictures. Every
bush, and house, and window, and, above all, the
people themselves, struck me as if I had seen them
and known them before. The styles of their differ-
ent painters were so various, and their variety of
objects so few, that one may say every object has
been painted, and of course, therefore, is perfectly
familiar to one acquainted with their pictures. I have
felt this, indeed, to such a remarkable degree, that
it almost seems as if one had a previous existence.”

108
6
AN AWKWARD CIRCUMSTANCE.
It is a rather singular circumstance that, on his
return home through France, an incident should
have befallen him precisely similar to that which
befell his illustrious predecessor, Hogarth; and that,
too, at the very same place, and in connection with
the same so-called fault. He was arrested while
engaged in making a sketch of the gate of Calais.
"After I had been at work," he says, "for an
hour and a half, with a great crowd about me, a
gendarme came up to me, and with an imperious
tone said, Par quelle autorité faites-vous cela,
monsieur?' I pointed to the officer on guard, and
told that he had given me leave. 'Ce n'est rien;
c'est défendu, monsieur; il faut que vous fermiez
votre livre, et m'accompagniez à l'Hôtel de Ville.'
This I of course agreed to most willingly."
so, beckoning to his friend to go too, he proceeded
to the Hôtel de Ville. From the Hôtel he was
sent to the house of the mayor; but meeting him
on the street, and the case being stated to him,
the mayor dismissed the gendarme, and took Wilkie
to his house. There, after telling him that there
were many people in Calais, as in other places, who
concluded at once that a foreigner who was making
drawings of a fortified place, could be doing so only
And

MATTERS MADE RIGHT.
109
for hostile purposes, and that therefore it was
necessary that the magistrates should hold surveil-
lance over such, he told him that he must desist
from his drawing, although he was certain there was
nothing objectionable in his intentions; and having
apologized for the necessary interference, they parted.
Poor Hogarth was not treated so leniently. Two
gendarmes accompanied him on board ship, and
having contemptuously twirled him round on the
deck, left him to his fate and his rather angry
reflections, which afterwards took shape in the
print of "The Roast Beef of Old England," and
one or two other designs of similar spirit and
aim.
Wilkie returned to London about the beginning
of October. In a letter to Sir George Beaumont,
he states as the result of all that he had seen of
Rubens, Teniers, Ostade, Cuyp, Jan Stein, and
Wouvermans, a confirmed resolution to depart in
no respect whatever from what he regarded as his
own peculiar line.

CHAPTER VII.
Various commissions-"The Penny Wedding"- Visits Scotland-Warmly
received by Professor Dugald Stewart-Visits Abbotsford-Introduction to
James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd-Paints family group for Sir Walter
Scott-Scott's description of it-"The Reading of a Will" described--
The Chelsea Pensioners ""
Guess my Name " The School ”.
"-Signs
of failing health-Visits Edinburgh-"The Parish Beadle "-Illustrations
of "The Gentle Shepherd," &c.—Is appointed King's Limner for Scotland
in 1823.
BOUT this time he painted a picture-
"The Breakfast"-for the Marquis of
Stafford, for which he was to have re-
ceived three hundred and fifty guineas, but which
was supplemented by the marquis to four hundred
pounds. We are now in the year 1817, when
Wilkie was thirty-two years of age.
He had com-
missions for pictures from the Prince Regent and the
Duke of Wellington: for the former, he had engaged
to paint "The Penny Wedding;" for the latter,
"The Chelsea Pensioners"-both proving very emi-
nent works. As "The Penny Wedding" was to be
an entirely Scotch picture, he resolved to study the


IN THE WEST HIGHLANDS.
111
characters who were to animate it, in their native
land. He set off, accordingly, for Scotland. He
visited Edinburgh, Glasgow, and the West High-
lands, and picked up many a hint of character and
manners which were to do service another day.
He speaks with enthusiasm of the warm reception
he met with from Dugald Stewart and his family
at Kinneill House. They sought out for me an
old farmhouse with a cradle chimney.
66
The house
was the finest specimen of the kind; everything
about it was plentiful and in good order. It is of
the fashion of two hundred years back, and the
family had been on the farm for double that time.
The father, who is a very old man, remembered
being at the plough during the battle of Falkirk.”
The narrative which he gives in his letters of
his tour in the West Highlands is full of interest
and amusement. It is conducted with very great
naïveté and quiet humour, and has a simplicity
about it which is quite childlike.
On his return from the Highlands he paid a visit
to Sir Walter Scott at Abbotsford. It was on this
occasion that he first became acquainted with the
Ettrick Shepherd, James Hogg. Mr. Laidlaw took
him to visit that rough and eccentric genius at his

112
INTRODUCTION TO THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.
cottage among the hills. Hogg did not at firs
understand who the stranger was whom Laidlaw
had introduced to him, but it suddenly struck him
in the course of conversation, when he immedi-
ately said," Mr. Laidlaw, this is no the great Mr.
Wilkie ?" On being assured that it was, he took
him warmly by the hand, and said, “I cannot tell
you how proud I am to see you in my house, and
how glad I am to see you are so young a man!”
When Sir Walter Scott was told of this reception,
he said, "The fellow! it was the finest compliment
ever paid to man.”
""
""
Wilkie availed himself of his stay at Abbotsford
to paint a family group for Sir Walter. This is
the well-known picture of "The Abbotsford Family.'
It will be best described by the "Great Magician
himself. "The idea," he says, "which our inimit-
able Wilkie adopted was, to represent our family
group in the garb of south-country peasants, sup-
posed to be concerting a merrymaking. The place
is the terrace near Kayside, commanding an ex-
tensive view towards the Eildon Hills. The sitting
figure, in the dress of a miller," he humorously con-
tinues, "represents Sir W. Scott, author of a few
score of volumes, and proprietor of Abbotsford, in

THE ABBOTSFORD FAMILY.

THE ABBOTSFORD FAMILY" DESCRIBED.
115
the county of Roxburgh. In front, and represent-
ing, we may suppose, a country wag, somewhat
addicted to poaching, stands Sir Adam Ferguson,
Knight, Keeper of the Regalia of Scotland. In
the background is a very handsome old man, up-
wards of eighty-four years old at the time, painted
in his own character of a shepherd. He also be-
onged to the numerous clan of Scott. He used
to claim credit for three things unusual among the
southland shepherds: first, that he had never been
fou in his life; second, that he had never struck a
man in anger; and, thirdly, that though intrusted
with the management of large sales of stock, he
had never lost a penny to his master by a bad
debt." He died soon afterwards at Abbotsford.
"Of the three female figures, the elder is the
late regretted mother of the family represented;
the young person most forward in the group is
Miss Sophia Charlotte Scott, now Mrs. John Gibson
Lockhart; and the other her sister, Miss Anne
Scott. Both are represented as ewe-milkers, with
their 'leglins' or milk-pails. On the left hand of
the shepherd, the young man holding a fowling-
piece is the eldest son of Sir Walter, now captain
in the King's Hussars. The boy is the youngest


116
(6 THE PENNY WEDDING.
""
of the family-Charles Scott, now of Brazen Nose,
College, Oxford. The two dogs were distinguished
favourites of the family. The large one was a stag-)
hound of the old Highland breed, called Maida, and
one of the handsomest dogs that could be found.
It was a present to me from the chief of Glen-
garry, and was highly prized, both on account of
his beauty, his fidelity, and the great rarity of the
breed. The other is a little Highland terrier called
Ourisk (Goblin), of a particular kind, bred in Kin
tail. It was a present from the Honourable Mrs.
Stuart Mackenzie, and is a valuable specimen of a
race which is now also scarce.
""
"The Penny Wedding" was finished soon after
this, for George IV., for which the artist received
five hundred guineas. It is remarkable for firm-
ness of texture, clearness of tone, purity of colour,
and other high qualities of the artist.
His next picture, and one of his greatest efforts,
was "The Reading of a Will;" which was painted
for Maximilian, the King of Bavaria, who will al-
ways be honourably remembered as the reviver of
German art. This picture was coveted by the
Prince Regent, who intimated, through Sir Thomas
Lawrence, his desire to possess it; proposing that a
THE READING OF A WILL."
117
duplicate should be made and sent to the Bavarian
Gallery. To this, however, Wilkie could not honour-
ably agree; and, after some correspondence between
the representatives of the two royal competitors, it
was ultimately sent to its original destination.
It was a happy subject for Wilkie's genius, and
most victoriously did he grapple with it. The
empty chair in the corner intimates the meaning of
this animated gathering. Its former occupant, the
master of the mansion, has passed away, and ex-
pectant relatives now wait to know what place he
is to receive in their memory and regard.
The precious document has been extracted from
the strong-box, and is being read off by the young
widow's agent with all the professional nonchalance
in the world. He does his work most excellently
well. Having previously, no doubt, made all right
for his client, he is seemingly unconscious of the
bullets he is sending through the long-cherished
hopes of others. One of the most self-important
of the assemblage typifies this in the most unmis-
takable manner. She has heard enough to make
it plain to her that she has nothing but the loss of
her dignity to expect by remaining longer, and, with
contemptuous indignation flashing from her eyes,

118
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
she flaunts out of the room, to the surprise of her
tawny servant-lad, who carries her gold-headed
cane, pattens, and poodle, and who has not been
accustomed to see at least
at least does not appear to
understand-so much demonstrativeness on the part
of his lady.
Everything about this figure is per-
fect; it very much reminds us of Hogarth, and,
like many of his figures, embodies a bitter satire
on poor humanity.
The young widow, on the other hand, carries all
her mourning in her millinery. She listens to the
document with suppressed but manifest satisfaction;
a satisfaction which is shared by the handsome mili-
tary officer who hangs about her, and whose future
course of action it makes plain and easy. The
grandmother, too, catches the infection, and seems
positively to chuckle with delight. She is pleasing
the baby, no doubt, and perhaps it is uncharitable to
say that her smiles have any other meaning than this.
The man with the ear-trumpet is quite a study.
It is making him hear, and of that he is proud;
but he still expects something more worth hearing,
and he perseveres in hope. Other relatives, more
in need, have been cruelly disappointed, and carry
the fact in their looks. It is long since they ceased

AN ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION.
119
to hope for anything from the testator's life, but
perhaps he might prove more relenting and profit-
able in his death. Yes; but there were other influ-
ences at work with the uxorious weakling, and
those whom both God and nature pointed out to
him as the proper objects of his care are found no-
where in his final distribution.
The size of this picture was two feet ten inches
in height, by three feet ten inches in width. The
sum he received for it was four hundred guineas.
Afterwards, at the sale of some of the Bavarian Gal-
lery pictures, it brought upwards of twelve hundred
pounds sterling—a circumstance by which the artist
was highly gratified.
The picture was exhibited in the Royal Academy
Exhibition in London previous to its transmission
to Munich. It met with an enthusiastic reception
there,—many pronouncing it his best work, and all
agreeing that it was one of the most important pro-
ductions of a national character which had come
from his easel.
The fertility of Wilkie's genius was now fully ac-
knowledged, so that not only was the distorted and
malevolent criticism with which he had been too
frequently assailed put an end to, but his ascendency
120
TWO MINOR WORKS.
among the artists of the day, and his title to the
great popularity which he enjoyed, were freely ad-
mitted by all.
The next work of importance-and it was one
which cost much thought and labour-was that of
"The Chelsea Pensioners," commissioned by the Duke
of Wellington. But, as was frequently his custom
when he had any great and tedious work on his easel,
he carried on at intervals, partly by way of recrea-
tion, one or two other works of minor importance.
At this time he had two such pictures growing under
his hand, both of them simple in their character,
and belonging to the incidents of common life.
Of these, the first was "Guess my Name," and
very cleverly represents a country-girl who, slipping
unperceived behind the chair on which her lover
is seated, and placing her clasped hands over his
eyes, tells him to guess her name. Allan Cunning-
ham says that he was informed by the artist that
the heroine of this picture experienced the sad
mortification of hearing another name than her own
mentioned by her lover in reply, and that, retiring
in confusion of face, she resolved to think no more
of one who evidently thought not of her.
The other was entitled "The Newsmongers,"
THE SCHOOL."
121
which was painted for the late General Phipps, but
which, at the sale of the general's pictures, passed
into the hands of Robert Vernon, Esq. Like most
of Wilkie's pictures, this has been made quite
familiar by engravings. A person is reading aloud
on the street some paragraphs from a newspaper,
and his rhetoric has attracted and arrested various
personages,—the most prominent of whom is a baker,
who has his board on his head loaded with joints for
the one o'clock dinner. He forgets his joints, how-
ever, and allows them to cool and get out of season,
while he swallows the "news." It is simple and
natural in its expression, and records just such a
thing as every one has seen many a time in his
mid-day walks about the great metropolis.
At this stage, too, it is proper to refer to the ad-
mirable picture of "The School," which was com-
missioned by a lady, but which, strangely enough,
was never finished. So far as it goes it is a
highly characteristic and meritorious work, fine in
its grouping, and fresh with the gaiety and frolic-
someness of youth. Both in its scene and in its
character it is of Scottish complexion, the old kirk
of Cults being seen through the half-open window,
while many of the countenances, including that of
122
SIGNS OF FAILING HEALTH.
the pedagogue himself, are of Northern type. At
the sale of the artist's pictures after his death, this
one, although unfinished, brought seven hundred and
forty-six pounds.
About this time the health of Wilkie began to
show signs of breaking down under the hard and
persistent labour of the past; and, with a view to
recruit it, he accompanied two friends on a short
visit to France. The visit altogether did not occupy
more than a month, during which time he frequently
visited the Louvre and other art-collections, and
enjoyed considerable intercourse with the celebrities.
in Paris. The object of the visit was so far gained
that he returned to London with his health much
improved. His great picture for the "Duke" was
lying heavily on his mind, and he addressed himself
to it with renewed energy and enthusiasm. In the
course of his journal we find repeated allusions to
the engraving of his various pictures, which was
being carried on chiefly by Raimbach and Burnet,
whose rendering of his works gave both the artist
and the public the highest satisfaction.
His "Chelsea Pensioners Reading the Gazette of
the Battle of Waterloo" was sent to Apsley House,
July 22, 1822; and on the 25th, at the duke's
A CELEBRATED PICTURE.
123
request, the painter waited upon him there, when,
says Wilkie with great simplicity, "he counted
out the money to me (£1260) in bank-notes; on
receiving which I told his grace that I considered
myself handsomely treated by him throughout."
This celebrated picture contains sixty figures,
which, the artist assures us, it took him full six-
teen months of constant work, besides months of
study, to collect and arrange. The impression pro-
duced by it at the Royal Academy Exhibition was
such, that Allan Cunningham states that the Battle
of Waterloo itself "made scarcely a greater stir
in the land." It was the central attraction of the
rooms, and from morning to night it was barri-
caded by the multitudes who eagerly pressed for-
ward to obtain a glimpse. Military life is here
seen in all its phases,―more especially retired and
disabled military life; and all the characteristic
peculiarities of the great military refuge come out
in its pensioners and other inmates; while every
nook and corner, every staircase and window, is
animated with faces and figures which contribute
to the boisterous hilarity of the occasion. No
doubt there were some obvious anachronisms in it
-as, for example, in the representing of Welling-
124
A VISIT TO EDINBURGH.
ton's heroes as present at Chelsea when the Gazette
extraordinary came out.
though pounced upon by
Such things, however, al-
some, were little regarded
in view of the general excellence of the picture, and
the spirited manner in which it embodied the feel-
ing of the nation and the sentiment of the subject.
In August 1822 Wilkie paid a visit to Edinburgh;
partly that he might be present on the occasion or
George the Fourth's visit to that city-of which
he was expected to give a pictorial representation
in some of its more striking points, and of which
he has left one important memorial in his picture
of "George IV. Receiving the Keys of the City at
Holyrood "—and partly for the purpose of making
studies for a work of great interest to the Scottish
division of the kingdom,-" John Knox Preaching
before the Lords of the Congregation at St. Andrews."
He returned to London the following month.
He had, previously to his going to Edinburgh,
painted his picture of "The Parish Beadle;" a work
which, although not one of his most elaborate pro-
ductions, was nevertheless gratefully received by
the critics and the public as exceedingly real and
true to its subject. A group of street performers,
with dog, monkey, and dancing-bear, are being
(6 THE PARISH BEADLE.”
125
marched off to the lock-up by the beadle of the
parish in all the full-blown insolence and self-
importance of office. He has fastened on a little
boy of the company who carries a monkey in his
arms, and him he is dragging, for some misdemean-
our real or imaginary, to prison, the parents, who
seem to be Italians, strongly protesting, though in
vain, and some boys following after exciting the
wrath of the beadle still further by mocking words
and contemptuous gestures. The turnkey is busy
unlocking the padlock of the prison-gate within
which the unfortunate is about to be thrust.
insolent tyranny of beadledom could not be better
expressed than it is in this picture. It calls up
some of the word-pictures of Dickens,-whom it
may have inspired; and is felt to be equally with
his the work of a master, although in this case
speaking in a universal tongue.
The
It is scarcely necessary to dwell upon the half-
desultory work with which Wilkie occupied himself,
as a sort of recreation, while he was concentrating
his principal attention on some picture of prime
importance. Both "George the Fourth's Visit to
Holyrood" and the "Preaching of Knox" were much
in his thoughts, although neither of them was to be
126
ILLUSTRATIONS TO << THE. GENTLE SHEPHERD."
finished for a long time to come. In the meantime,
however, he applied himself to the illustration of
Allan Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd," with the Scot-
tish rusticity of which he had considerable sym-
pathy. His pictures of this simple pastoral were
of remarkable beauty. The first, which he termed
"The Cottage Toilet," was painted for the collection
of the Duke of Bedford; "Glaud's Cottage" was
the subject of another; and the Flageolet-playing
scene was that of a third,-all of them handled with
much skill and judiciousness, as well as delicacy and
feeling. The Flageolet scene in "The Gentle Shep-
herd," although not in Wilkie's earliest and most
characteristic manner, has been much admired. The
female figures and faces have about them the health-
ful freshness and lithe vigour of rustic life. They
are in the bloom of womanhood, and far from
ungraceful. There is love in the case, with a touch.
of sauciness in the aspect of the damsel who is the
object of the shepherd's regard, as if she thought
she might look a little higher, and was not to be
cajoled by his poor strains. The other listens to
the music with interest and respect. The performer
is evidently caught in the toils of love, and is at
the mercy of his Dulcinea, but looks somewhat

THE GENTLE SHEPHERD.
Uor M
66
WILKIE'S VARIED LABOURS.
129
depressed, as if he was by no means sure of a proper
response. The dog, the shepherd's crook, the
wash-tub, the two reaping-hooks in the thatch of
the cottage, the breeży sky, and the distant hills,—
all fall in with the rural and pastoral character of
the incident, and are so accurately selected and care-
fully touched as,—taking into account the fewness
and size of the figures,-to make this picture a sort of
combination both of the artist's early and later style.
Smugglers Offering Run Goods for Sale," which
he painted for Sir Robert Peel, was another picture
of this time, as well as two admirable sketches of
his great picture of "The Chelsea Pensioners,” for
Lord Eldon-then Mr. John Clerk-and Sir Wil-
loughby Gordon. When we take into account these
various labours, along with the fact that he was
occupied besides with arrangements for the engrav-
ing of his pictures, and was conducting a large and
diversified correspondence, we cease to be surprised
that there should have begun to manifest itself a
falling off in health which was fitted to alarm his
friends, and even to suggest to himself a curtailment
of his labours. We must not omit to mention here
that, on the death of Sir Henry Raeburn in 1823,
he was appointed King's Limner for Scotland.
(612)
9
CHAPTER VIII.
Trying events--Health feeble-Work discontinued-Long absence from Eng-
land-Influence of his residence on the Continent on his views of art-
Health recovered while in Spain-His Spanish pictures-His opinion of
Murillo and Velasquez-His return to London-Eight pictures in Exhibi-
tion of 1829-Public opinion of his new class of subjects and style of treat-
ment-The Presidency of the Royal Academy question-Portrait of George
IV. in Highland costume, and "Entry of George IV. into Holyrood"-
"Knox Preaching at St. Andrews."

HE familiar saying that "trials never come
singly," was painfully illustrated in this
part of Wilkie's career. Along with his
own failing health there came the return of his
brother James from Canada, with broken health
and ruined finances, and for whom he had become
surety to the extent of a thousand pounds. This
was followed by the death of his mother; and that
again by intelligence of the death of his elder
brother in India. Such an accumulation of disasters
must inevitably have pressed very heavily upon him,
and precipitated that state of inaction to which his
pencil was for a long time consigned.
A LONG ABSENCE FROM ENGLAND.
131
He repaired first of all to Cheltenham, where he
hoped for some revival from drinking the waters.
The effect of this, however, was the opposite of
favourable, as it brought on a swimming in the
head, which rendered it necessary to have recourse
to leeches. Shortly after this, by the advice of his
physicians, he resolved on going abroad, and to
seek renewed vigour of mind and body in change
of air and scene, together with complete cessation
from labour. Accordingly, on the 25th of July
1825 he set out for Paris, having as his companion
Mr. Newton, an American artist of great ability,
and endowed with conversational powers of no com-
mon order.
At Paris he was joined by his cousin,
Mr. David Lister, who had studied medicine at the
University of Edinburgh, and was a man of general
culture and taste.
The long interregnum of ill-health which had
now set in caused an absence from England of
three years. During that time he travelled in
many lands, visited the most celebrated picture-
galleries of Continental Europe, made interesting
and discriminative jottings of the principal works
which came under his observation, and wrote a
considerable number of letters (although even for
132
A CHANGE IN WILKIE'S VIEWS OF ART.
this his strength was scarcely adequate) to his
friends at home. The principal countries which he
visited were France, Italy, Prussia, Austria, Switzer-
land, and Spain. While unable during all this time
to engage in the active pursuit of his art, he was
nevertheless far from idle. He inspected the princi-
pal art-galleries of Europe, and has left in his journal
numerous remarks on the merits of the works which
came under his notice, which indicate both know-
ledge and judgment, and which evince an amount
of sympathy with what is called "high art" which
we could scarcely have expected from one whose
reputation had been achieved in so different a field.
It is obvious, indeed, that this long sojourn on
the Continent had a powerful effect on his views of
art, as well as on his own subsequent labours. It
led him to form the resolution of quitting the
sphere of simple, homely life, and devoting himself
to what is more properly called "historical" paint-
ing. His pictures after this became more ambitious
in their subjects, -as in "The Maid of Saragossa,'
"Sir David Baird at the Siege of Seringapatam,"
and such like; a change which many of his ad-
mirers regretted, although he undoubtedly displayed
very considerable ability in this new field.
""
THE GUERILLA PICTURES.
133
He began to recover his health while in Spain ;
and the improvement proceeded so rapidly, that
while there he recommenced work, and either
sketched or painted outright, several important and
valuable works. Of these are the celebrated guerilla
pictures-illustrations, as he called them-of the
Peninsular War. They were painted at Madrid in
1828, and were acquired by his majesty George IV.
The series consisted of four, the best of which
was The Guerilla Council;" a picture of which the
artist himself thought highly, saying, “If it reach
London in safety, it will do as much for me as any
picture I ever painted." The clergy had much to
do in directing the resistance offered to the then
recent invasion by the French of the Peninsula ;
and in this picture they are seen concerting with
the guerilla, or armed peasants, some plan of sur-
prise or defence. In the group of heads at the
table there is masterly delineation of character;
and, indeed, the same may be said of the figures
generally. Some critics have expressed the opinion
that the dwarf-minstrel tuning his guitar is not
unworthy of Murillo.
It is a picture which exhibits the best qualities
both of his early and his later styles, having the
134
THE CONFESSIONAL."
detail and clearness of the former, along with the
breadth and freedom of the latter. The series of
pictures illustrative of the war numbered four in all
namely, besides the one above mentioned, "The
Guerilla Taking Leave of his Confessor," "The Maid
of Saragossa," and "The Guerilla's Return to his
Family." He painted also, previous to his return
to England, some pictures exemplifying social and
devotional life at Rome; among which may be
specified as an important work, "The Confessional."
In this picture we find Wilkie entering a region
different from, and in some respects higher than, any
he had hitherto ventured into-dealing with our
nature in one of its most trying experiences, and
producing an effect as wonderful in its intensity as
in its means it is simple. The whole picture is
steeped in the sentiment of penitential agony. It
is indeed deeply tragic. The very fingers of the
young monk, as he convulsively bends before the
confidant of his soul's secrets, are expressive of
that spiritual anguish which wrings his frame,
which closes his eyes, and prostrates his whole
nature under a sense of terrible conflict between
passion and will--sense and spirit. "If," says a
critic, "we were required to select any one subject
THE MAID OF SARAGOSSA."
135
from the works of Wilkie-numerous and varied as
they are—which should give the highest idea of his
powers, it would be that of The Confessional.'"
(
The "Maid of Saragossa" was a very popular work.
Embodying the sentiment of patriotism, intensified by
a sense of personal loss, it made a powerful appeal
to the heart, while the elevated manner in which it
was treated increased the interest and fascination of
the work. The artist's biographer tells us that
"the public hastened to the Exhibition in crowds to
see it."
The best idea of the picture may be given
in the words of Wilkie himself. "The heroine,
Augustina," he says, "is represented on the battery
in front of the Convent of Santa Engratia, where,
her lover being slain, she stepped over his body,
took his place at the gun, and declared she would
avenge his death. The principal person engaged in
placing the gun is Don Joseph Palafox, who com-
manded the garrison during this memorable siege.
In front of him is Father Consolaçion, an Augustine
friar, who served with great ability as an engineer,
and who, with a crucifix in his hand, is directing at
what object it should be pointed. Nigh him is seen
Boggiero, a priest famed for his heroic defence, and
for his cruel fate when he fell into the hands of
136
THE IMPRESSION IN SPAIN.
the enemy. He is writing a despatch, to be sent
off by a carrier-pigeon, announcing the awakening
resistance of the place under a Spanish Joan of
Arc."
Notwithstanding the success of this and his other
Spanish pictures with the general public, the artist
had to encounter much sharp criticism on account
of his change of style; which, however, his bio-
grapher assures us, he endured with "astonishing
composure," having so fully made up his mind to
the matter that he was equally unmoved "by the
warnings of friends and the admonitions of critics."
Wilkie produced a powerful impression in Spain
by the works which he painted there; by which
works, moreover, he may be said to have achieved
a new fame-they were so different both in subject
and in treatment from his previous efforts.
In a
letter to his sister, dated Madrid, March 31, 1828,
he mentions that his labours there had not been
viewed with indifference; that he had had to do the
honours of his little suite of rooms much as on
such occasions at home, the only difference being
that instead of the grandees of Kensington, his
visitors were the grandees of Spain. He then pro-
ceeds to specify some of his illustrious visitors,

THE MAID OF SARAGOSSA.
VISIT TO SEVILLE.
139
among whom he mentions the Duke del Infantado,
the Duke of Ossuna, the Duke de Villa Hermosa,
the Duchess de Benavente, the Marquis and Marchesa
de Santa Cruz, and various others, as having all
been to see his Spanish pictures. He mentions also
that almost every artist in Madrid had visited him,
and had expressed a degree of satisfaction with his
labours to which he had scarcely before been accus-
tomed. These were all persons, he says, who had
never seen any of his works before; and he raises
the question as to whether the people in London,
accustomed to his former productions, would be
equally favourable to his new class of subjects.
had now, he adds, from the study of the old masters,
adopted a bolder, and, as he thought, a more effec-
tive style, of which one effect was rapidity.
concludes with the remark that if it excites the
same interest in London that it had done in Spain,
it would probably bring better times.
He
He
Immediately after this he visited Seville, and
his letters contain interesting notices of the works
of art which he saw there. It is celebrated as the
birthplace of the two greatest painters of Spain—
Murillo and Velasquez. He speaks of Murillo as
being the "idol" of the place. "Even among the
140
OPINION OF MURILLO AND VELASQUEZ.
lower classes he is venerated as if he were the
patriot and benefactor of the city. His name is
with them synonymous with all that is excellent; a
general term, which makes, in their eyes, every
beautiful picture, painted by whom it may, "a
Murillo." "For female and infantine beauty," he
says, "Murillo is the Correggio of Spain; for colour-
ing also, he may be allowed to claim a comparison,
and that is no light matter."
Of Velasquez he says, that there is much resem-
blance between his works and those of some of the
chiefs of the English school; of all, Raeburn resem-
bling him most, in whose square touch in heads,
hands, and accessories, he saw the very counterpart
of the Spaniard. Compared with Murillo, he con-
sidered Velasquez to have greater talent; to have
been more the founder of a school, and altogether
more capable of giving a new direction to art.
painting an intelligent portrait, Velasquez is nearly
unrivalled; but when he attempts simple nature or
sacred subjects he is far inferior to Murillo." Velas-
quez made also some attempts in landscape painting
-a very rare thing among Spanish painters. Wilkie
characterizes those in this line which he saw, as
most original and daring. He says that Titian
"In
RETURN TO LONDON.
141
seems to have been his model, and that although
he lived previous to the time of Claude and Sal-
vator Rosa, he had combined the breadth and
picturesque effect for which these two painters were
remarkable.
Wilkie lingered a short time in Paris on his way
home, and arrived in London in the latter part of
June 1828, after an absence of three years.
It is scarcely necessary to state that he met with
a cordial welcome in England. The fact that his
health was re-established was a matter of universal
satisfaction, while the rumours which were abroad
of the resumption of his pencil at Rome and in
Spain, added greatly to the interest of his return.
The celebrated American author, Washington Irving,
One
at that time Minister of the United States at the
Court of Madrid, and with whom Wilkie had much
pleasant intercourse,—had intimated in letters to
friends in London Wilkie's great success and new
reputation by his historical pictures in Spain.
consequence was, that he had scarcely arrived when
the King inspected them, and having been greatly
struck with their beauty, selected them for the royal
collection. His Majesty purchased also his picture
of "The Pifferari," and that of "The Princess
142
PORTRAIT OF THE EARL OF KELLIE.
Washing the Female Pilgrims' Feet;" the former
painted at Rome, the latter at Geneva.
In the Exhibition of 1829 Wilkie appeared in
great strength, being represented by not fewer than
eight pictures, seven of which were Spanish and
Italian, the eighth a portrait of the Earl of Kellie,
unanimously considered an admirable work, and
intended for the Town-Hall of Cupar, the county
town of the artist's native shire. It had been com-
missioned by the people of the town and district,
and its completion, and allocation in its destined
place, were matters of no small satisfaction to the
patriotic feelings of the painter. This Exhibition
presented to the public the first opportunity of pro-
nouncing an opinion on his new class of subjects,
and his new manner of treatment; and although
there was high appreciation in some quarters, there
was, at the same time, as previously noticed, no
lack of tempestuous criticism in others. This
criticism, however, did not affect the decision of
Wilkie. There were two considerations which influ-
enced his judgment. On the one hand he believed
that he had done his utmost and best in his old
elaborate style of detail and finish; and on the
other hand, he felt assured that in this new class of
PRESIDENCY OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY.
143
subjects, and with the freer and more rapid manner
of working, he might not only add a fresh laurel
to his reputation, but be more likely to reach an
independent position in a pecuniary point of view.
Shortly after this he visited Scotland, for the purpose
chiefly of making studies for his forthcoming pictures
of "George IV. Entering Holyrood," and "Knox
Preaching at St. Andrews." On this occasion he
spent a short time with Sir Walter Scott at Abbots-
ford.
The President of the Royal Academy, Sir Thomas
Lawrence, having died in the beginning of January
1830, Wilkie allowed himself to be nominated as a
candidate for the office. No one could dispute the
validity of his claims, and had the question been
settled on wide and obvious grounds doubtless the
vote would have been in his favour.
But some
traditional absurdity about the necessity of assign-
ing the chair to a portrait-painter, along with, pro-
bably, other motives which could not have been so
easily mentioned, turned the scales against him, and
gave the decision by a large majority in favour of
Mr. Shee. The King had appointed Wilkie Principal
Painter-in-Ordinary to His Majesty in England, an
office which also was held by Sir Thomas Lawrence;
144
PICTURES OF GEORGE IV.
and it is generally supposed that this was done
partly to lead the way to his election as President.
It is to be regretted, for many reasons, that that
election was not made. It would have been a
proper recognition of genius and industry, while
nothing could have been more fitting than that the
foremost name in British Art, and the name with
which it was identified over the whole of Con-
tinental Europe and America, should have stood at
the head of its great National Academy. Notwith-
standing all this, however, there was only one vote,
that of Mr. Collins (to his honour, be it said), re-
corded in his favour. The highest reputation,
founded on splendid achievement, was passed by,
and mediocrity was raised over its head. It is only
proper to add, that while the decision of the council
was a matter of disappointment and perplexity to
the public, on Wilkie himself it produced no tangible
effect.
His pictures of George IV. in Highland costume,
and of his entry into Holyrood, were now completed,
and he sent them to the Exhibition of the year 1830,
where, according to Wilkie himself, they got "two
prime places." He adds, "The former," the portrait,
namely, "is said by friends to look strong and rich.
"KNOX PREACHING AT ST. ANDREWS.
145
The low perspective is thought new and successful,
and I am encouraged by those about me, and by my
own feeling, to adhere to that style of colouring."
The general opinion, indeed, was that the "por-
trait" was a decided success. With regard to the
other and more elaborate picture, there was felt to
be some drawback, chiefly in the over-pronounced
air of dignity in the principal figure. This was
to be attributed to the King himself, who had
objected to the more simple attitude which the
artist originally sketched, and, by insisting on some-
thing more "befitting a king," disturbed the ex-
pression of the whole, and took it down to the
level of melo-dramatic spectacle. Wilkie had two
other pictures in this Exhibition, "The Guerilla's
Return," and "A Spanish Senoritta Walking with
her Nurse on the Prado of Madrid." These were
both regarded with admiration by the public.
But the picture on which his mind was now
principally set was "Knox Preaching at St. An-
drews," It was destined for the gallery of Sir
Robert Peel, and it was the wish of the painter to
make it at once worthy of that gallery and a
favourable exponent of his new style of working.
He therefore determined to concentrate all his
(612)
10
146
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
energies upon it. It was finished in time for the
Exhibition of 1832; to which, along with a portrait
of the new sovereign, William IV., it was accord-
ingly sent. It is impossible to give anything like
an adequate description of the first of these works.
It is full of energy and power, with exquisite group-
ing, deep lucidity of colour, and excellent balance of
light and shade. Taken as a whole, it is a faithful
rendering of the character of the times, and a vivid
embodiment of the spirit of struggle which, at the
period referred to, was shaking the nation to its
centre. The principal figure, of course, is the great
preacher himself, who, thoroughly kindled by his
theme and the vital importance of the crisis, thunders
forth from the pulpit the doctrines of the Reforma-
tion. Close to the pulpit are some of the personal
friends of the Reformer, such as Bellenden, his
amanuensis; Goodman, his colleague; and Sir James
Sandilands, Grand Master of the Knights of Malta.
Grouped together in front are Lord James Stuart,
afterwards Earl of Murray; the Earl of Morton;
the Earl of Argyll; and Cunningham, Earl of Glen-
cairn. In a side-chapel near these Reforming lords
is a group of the old Romish hierarchical party,-
namely, Bishop Beatoun of Glasgow; Archbishop
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
147
Hamilton; and Kennedy, Abbot of Crossraguel, who
had once been engaged in a public disputation with
Knox on ecclesiastical points. The Countess of
Argyll is placed between these fierce groups, and the
Admirable Crichton is also a prominent figure.
In the gallery of the cathedral, also, are person-
ages of mark, such as Andrew Melville and George
Buchanan, with Sir Patrick Learmonth of Darsie,
Provost of St. Andrews. The professors of the
university, citizens, scholars, and peasants, with
monks and soldiers, fill up the scene. There is a
feeling of intense excitement pervading the picture,
and the impression of a crisis is perfect. It is in
the truest sense a historical picture, connected
visibly with the life of the nation, individual in its
characters, yet with the individuality fused by the
strength of a common emotion.
CHAPTER IX.
Portraits of the Duke of Wellington and the Duke of Sussex-Again visits
Scotland Six pictures exhibited in 1835-Three portraits; namely, "The
Duke of Wellington,"
""Sir James M'Grigor," and "Edward Irving"-
Three of a historical and fanciful character; namely, Columbus at the
Convent of La Rabida," "Sancho Panza in the Days of his Youth," and
The First Ear-ring"-The "Columbus" described-"Sir David Baird at
Seringapatam"-Irish pictures-Elected a Corresponding Member of the
Institute of France-Receives the honour of Knighthood-Pictures of 1837
The picture of Sir David Baird described-Picture of Queen Victoria
presiding at her first council-Portrait of O'Connell-Visits Wordsworth-
Goes to Scotland-Exhibition of 1840-Unfinished picture of "Knox
Administering the Sacrament at Calder House."
HORTLY after this, Wilkie painted a por-
trait of the Duke of Wellington, with
the charger which he rode at Waterloo;
and one of the Duke of Sussex, as Earl of Inver-
ness, in the costume of a Highland chief. These
were both excellent works; the latter especially,
which has been described as "the first of all modern
portraits," and is said to have eclipsed all the
pictures in the Exhibition of 1833. To that of
1834 he sent several portraits, together with a

REMARKABLE ASSIDUITY.
149
humorous subject entitled "Not at Home," and a
work of fine feeling and beauty called "The Spanish
Mother and Child." The latter was painted for Sir
Thomas Knighton.
In the autumn of 1834 he again visited Scot-
land, where he enjoyed pleasant intercourse with
many friends.
He went as far north as Taymouth
Castle, where he visited the Marquis of Breadalbane,
and was much pleased with the beautiful scenery of
the district. He returned to London towards the
close of autumn.
The assiduity of Wilkie was not less remarkable
than his genius, and did not less contribute to his
success; and when it is considered that, during
almost the whole of his career, he had to contend
more or less with indifferent health, and that that
career was altogether a comparatively short one, we
are the more surprised at the large number of careful
and elaborate works which proceeded from his hand.
He
In the year 1835 we find him again in great
force on the walls of the Academy Exhibition.
had six pictures in all. These consisted of three
portraits,—namely, "The Duke of Wellington," in
the dress which he wore in active service;
"Sir
James M'Grigor, Bart., Director-general of the Army
150
""
THE COLUMBUS.
""
Medical Department ; " and the popular preacher,
"The Rev. Edward Irving:" and three others of a
historical and fanciful character,-namely, "Colum-
bus submitting the Chart of his intended Voyage of
Discovery to the Heads of the Convent of La
Rabida;' "Sancho Panza in the Days of his
Youth; and a careful and beautifully executed
picture of a domestic nature, entitled "The First
Ear-ring." Of the portraits that of Sir James
M'Grigor was considered the best, and was pro-
nounced worthy to stand in the front rank of
British portraits. The "Columbus" belonged to the
drama of history, and was treated in a free and
forcible manner. It relates to an incident connected
with the first appearance in Spain of the great dis-
coverer an incident which had about it an air of
deep pathos and romance, and was admirably
adapted for pictorial representation.
A solitary stranger, with a little boy in his hand,
toil-worn and sad (for by this time he had passed
from court to court in fruitless endeavours to obtain
the acceptance of his scheme), Columbus presented
himself at the gate of the Franciscan Convent of
La Rabida, which occupied a lonely eminence near
Palos, in Andalusia. Though poorly habited he was
THE INCIDENT NARRATED.
151
of noble mien, with high thoughts kindling in his
From
eye, and a great purpose lying at his heart.
the whiteness of his hair he might have been
regarded as old, but for the general loftiness of his
bearing and energy of his expression, by which all
signs of age were more than neutralized. While in
the act of soliciting from the porter some bread and
water for his child, he was accosted by the chief of
the convent who happened to pass at the time. The
conversation which ensued so impressed the friar
that he sent for the principal physician of Palos,
Garcia Fernandez, to assist him in judging of Colum-
bus and his plans. Others, besides, were summoned
to the council-practical men-among whom was
Martin Alonzo Pinzon, a resident of Palos, and who
afterwards became a companion of Columbus in his
great expedition. The end of the matter was, not
merely that his plans were approved, but that the
superior of the convent gave him a letter of intro-
duction to Court, and engaged to look after the
maintenance and education of his son, while Colum-
bus himself should proceed to urge his suit with
Ferdinand and Isabella. Such unexpected encourage-
ment revived the heart and the hopes of Columbus,
and he was not slow to avail himself of it.
This
152
((
THE COLUMBUS" DESCRIBED.
was in the spring of 1486, when Columbus was about
The result is known to all the
fifty years of age.
world.
Such is the incident, standing in such near and
vital connection with the discovery of the great
Western Continent, which Wilkie very judiciously
seized as the subject of a picture, and which he
treated with great simplicity and breadth. Colum-
bus, seated at a table in the convent, with the
superior on his right, submits the plan of his pro-
jected voyage.
Near him is his son Diego, with a
small Italian greyhound. The learned and scientific
physician, who fortunately approved of the project,
is at the other side of the table; while Alonzo Pin-
zon, one of the most enlightened navigators of the
period, also looks on with manifest interest. Great
and momentous as the occasion was, there is nothing
spasmodic or sensational in the treatment which it
receives from Wilkie; on the contrary, there is a
calmness and self-control on the part of Columbus,
and a quiet gravity on the part of the others, which
are felt to be strictly appropriate to the character
of the scene.
Some time before this he had received an im-
portant commission from Lady Baird, and with this
VISIT TO IRELAND.
153
picture, intended to represent Sir David Baird at
the siege of Seringapatam, he was busily engaged,
when he made a diversion to a field entirely new. It
was thought by some that he might advantageously
try his pencil on scenes illustrative of Irish character
and manners; and, falling in with the suggestion,
he set out for Ireland during the autumn of this
year. He remained for a short time in Dublin, and
then visited various other parts of the island; the
fruit of the whole being a considerable number of
sketches of much interest and value, although only
two finished pictures came out of them,—namely,
"A Smuggling Still at Work" and "The Peep o'
Day Boy's Cabin." He was particularly interested
in the costume, and, indeed, the whole economy of
the people, in the more remote districts which he
visited, as furnishing "many elements of the pic-
turesque." While on this tour he visited Miss
Edgeworth, whose appreciation of the talents of
the painter-as his of hers-was very high. He
showed her the sketch of "The Peep o' Day Boy,"
which she considered as rather defective in its ex-
pression of Irish character. "The finished picture,
however," says Allan Cunningham, "was made more
true to Ireland and the Irish."
Wilkie expresses,
154
HONOURS FROM ABROAD.
in his letters, a high opinion of Ireland as a field
for the artist, intimates his surprise that it had been
hitherto so little regarded, and predicts the speedy
approach of the time when it will secure a wider
attention from British artists.
We know not that this prediction can be said to
have been verified to any great extent. With the
exception of Mr. E. Nicol, who has applied his excel-
lent talents to the subject, and whose pictures have
only the one fault, that they are a little more Irish
than the Irish, we are not aware of any painter who
has given particular attention to it. On this occasion
Wilkie was absent from Kensington fully six weeks.
In December of this year he was surprised and
gratified by honours from abroad, having been elected
a Corresponding Member of the Institute of France.
To Raimbach, the accomplished engraver of many
of his works, and who was included with himself
in this honour, he writes in a characteristically kind
and generous manner, intimating that his own art,
being necessarily local, could not have secured him
that honour, and that he was indebted for it to the
comparative ubiquity of that of the engraver, whose
works "are wafted forth on a thousand wings, and
speak simultaneously to all countries, and in all
KNIGHTHOOD FROM THE KING.
155
languages." He adds that he fears more than the
usual difficulty, when the official announcement
arrives, in expressing his thanks; but very inno-
cently "supposes " that that may be got over by
writing "in his own language."
He had again six pictures in the Exhibition,
among which were "The Peep o' Day Boy," already
referred to—a picture of high merit, and represent-
ing the spirit of discontent prevailing among the
peasantry of Ireland; and "The Duke of Wellington
Writing a Despatch on the Night before the Battle
of Waterloo,"-a work which, while much admired,
"was liable," says Cunningham, "to this objection,
that there was nothing in the composition to show
that the despatch was written on the eve of Waterloo—
an error so rare in Wilkie as to render it remarkable.”
England has been said to be proverbially slow to
reward talent in her sons. France had certainly
anticipated her in the case of Wilkie; but she was
not far behind. In December 1835 he had been
named as a Corresponding Member of the Institute
of France, and on the 15th of June 1836 he re-
ceived the distinction of Knighthood from the King
of England. That he highly appreciated the honour
is certain; and yet, neither this nor any other mark.
156
THE COTTAR'S SATURDAY NIGHT.
""
of distinction made any visible difference in him.
He retained the same simplicity of character and the
same unobtrusive modesty of demeanour to the end.
To the Exhibition of 1837-now for the first
time transferred from Somerset House to Trafalgar
Square-he forwarded seven works of varied interest
and importance, among which were "Mary Queen
of Scots Escaping from Lochleven Castle," "The
Cottar's Saturday Night," and "The Empress
Josephine and the Fortune-teller.” These were all
greeted by the public with enthusiasm. The "Mary"
is quite in the spirit of Scott's romance; the
Josephine," which represents its heroine, while
still very young and residing in St. Domingo, as
being informed by a sort of negro sorceress, that
she would live to be a queen, is considered as
(6 one
of the happiest of the artist's works of imagina-
tion;" and "The Cottar's Saturday Night," painted
originally for Mr. Moon, and now in the possession
of Matthew Mure, Esq., Glasgow, is pervaded with
all the tenderness and holy calm proper to the sub-
ject, and inspired by the poem on which it is founded.
His other pictures on this occasion were a portrait
of William IV.; a portrait of the Earl of Tanker-
ville; a portrait of his much-valued friend, lately
AN AMUSING INCIDENT.
157
deceased, Sir William Knighton; and a Study of a
Gentleman Reading the last-named being a very
admirable head of his brother, Thomas Wilkie.
All this time Wilkie was busily engaged with
the picture of Sir David Baird at Seringapatam; a
work which, both from the fact that he attached
great importance to it, and the difficulty which he
encountered in obtaining Orientals in London as
"studies" for characters necessary to be introduced,
gave him more than the usual amount of trouble
and anxiety. He narrates, indeed, an amusing in-
cident illustrative of this. He had been informed
that there were three Hindu cavalry soldiers in
London, who had come for the purpose of obtain-
ing the redress of some grievance, and who were
almost every day to be found at the India House.
Wilkie made application to them, and obtained their
consent to "sit" for the picture. He explained
to them by an interpreter what he wanted, and
proceeded to arrange them on a platform, in a
group. One of them, representing Tippoo Saib,
reclined, with his head supported by one of his
lieutenants, and his hand held by the other, with
his finger on his pulse to know if he was still
alive. Wilkie was quite delighted with the effect.
158
PORTRAIT OF HER MAJESTY IN COUNCIL.
"The group," he says, "was magnificent; and I
was all ecstasy to realize such a vision of character
and colour. It was, indeed, a vision, and a vision
only, for all of a sudden the youngest of them said,
'Me no Tippoo,' and sprang from his position;
while the others repeated, 'No Tippoo I,' ‘No
Tippoo I,' and, to my surprise, left their places
also, and no persuasion I could use could induce
them to resume them." He afterwards found some
native Lascars, who sat to him daily for a num-
ber of weeks, and in this
to get the more important of the Indian heads
painted in; and a lady having brought him a dress,
consisting of pelisse and trousers actually worn by
Tippoo Saib himself, he was immensely rejoiced, de-
claring that this was "a great help."
way he was enabled
While thus engaged with the picture of Sir David
Baird, an event took place which led to a diversion
of his labours in some measure. This was the suc-
cession to the throne of Queen Victoria, on the death
of William IV. On this occasion the appointment
of Wilkie as Painter-in-Ordinary was renewed, and
he was very soon thereafter called upon to paint
a portrait of Her Majesty presiding at her first
council of state. In connection with this, we find
THE PICTURE DESCRIBED.
159
in one of his letters a statement of fact which pleas-
ingly exhibits even thus early that considerate punc-
tuality and adherence to purpose which have charac-
terized Queen Victoria throughout her reign. "She
appoints a sitting," he says, "once in two days, and
she never puts me off." This picture, which cost
the artist much trouble in the arrangement of the
figures, was completed in time for the Exhibition of
1838, to which, along with five others, among which
was a portrait of Daniel O'Connell, it was sent.
The subject was one of peculiar interest.
the first council of the present happy reign.
It was
The
tidings of her accession to the fairest of earthly
dominions had been announced to Victoria early
in the morning, and the highest in the land were
waiting to do her homage. The painter has repre-
sented Her Majesty as seated at the head of her
council-table, and holding in her hand her gracious
declaration to the Lords and other members of the
council. The Duke of Argyll, the Earl of Albemarle,
the Right Honourable George Byng, C. C. Grenville,
Esq., the Marquis of Lansdowne, the Marquis of
Anglesey, Lord Palmerston, Lord John Russell, the
Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, and others,
were among the portraits introduced.
160
PICTURE OF SIR DAVID BAIRD.
The portrait of O'Connell was considered remark-
ably like, though rather wanting in the expression
of impulsiveness and impetuosity by which the Irish
leader was characterized. The "Hereditary bonds-
men, know ye not," &c., scarcely appears in this
portrait, although, in many respects, it is an excel-
lent work. About this time he attended the meet-
ing of the British Association at Newcastle-on-Tyne;
after which he made a run into Scotland, principally
for the purpose of visiting Calder House, in a hall
of which John Knox first administered the sacra-
ment. He had formed the purpose of painting a
companion-picture to his "Knox Preaching at St.
Andrews," and he considered that his first adminis-
tration of the sacrament would be an appropriate
subject. To this we shall again refer.
Having returned to London, he vigorously re-
sumed working at his picture of Sir David Baird,
and got it finished in time for the Exhibition of
1839, to which, with four other works, it was sent.
It was in size what is generally called a gallery
picture, being eleven feet six inches, by eight feet
eleven. It produced a favourable impression, and
was regarded as a good specimen of Wilkie's serious
manner. It is thoroughly historical in its spirit and
A TRIP TO THE NORTH.
161
meaning, and truly represents all that was locally
characteristic of the scene, as well as its essential
sentiment. The locality of the incident is the gate-
way of the inner fort of Seringapatam. The dead
Indian warrior, pierced with many wounds, lies on
the foreground; Sir David, with much calm dig-
nity, yet not without respectful sympathy for his
fallen foe, directs the removal of the body; while
a variety of figures, embracing both the friends and
attendants of Tippoo, and the soldiers of Sir David,
are ranged upon the canvas with much artistic taste
and dramatic effect. An admirable engraving of
the picture by Burnet was afterwards published by
Mr. Moon; "that sort of person," Wilkie writes,
"who proceeds warmly and successfully in whatever
he undertakes."
Shortly after this he visited the Lakes of Cum-
berland, where he saw Wordsworth and his family.
Thence he passed into Scotland,—his last visit, as
it turned out, to his native country. He was the
guest for some time of Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson of
Raith, near Kirkcaldy. He extended his trip to
the parish of Cults, when he visited the old manse,
and was favourably impressed by its new tenants.
At this time he saw his father's monument, which
(612)
11
162
66
PORTRAIT OF THE HOOKABADAR."
""
pleased him greatly.
"It is very well lighted," he
says, "and seems to fit and greatly adorn the
place."
((
To the Exhibition of 1840,-the last which he
was to have any living interest in,-Wilkie sent
eight works, among which the most memorable were,
"Benvenuto Cellini Presenting for the Approval of
Pope Paul Third a Silver Vase of his own Work-
manship;" "The Irish Whisky Still;" "The Hooka-
badar;" and "Portrait of Mrs. Ferguson of Raith."
The first of these is a piece of peculiarly fine work-
manship; "such a picture," says Allan Cunningham,
as Reynolds would have loved to praise; a complete
Sir Joshua all over." The portrait of Mrs. Fer-
guson was considered about the best female portrait
which had come from his hand. "The Irish Whisky
Still" has a good deal of moral teaching in it, and
is in some parts true to Irish character. "The
Hookabadar" is an Indian subject, and a remarkably
effective and characteristic illustration of Eastern
character and costume. The Hookabadar, or Pipe-
bearer, is a personage of some little importance in
the East, where the pipe is even more an "institution"
than it is with us; and the portrait by Wilkie is
that of a personage who is not without a due sense
KNOX ADMINISTERING THE SACRAMENT."
163
of the responsibility and importance of his office.
The soft dusky skin and the delicate nervous organi-
zation of the Hindu are here given with admirable
feeling and skill, while the costume has that airy and
gossamer flow which leaves nothing to be desired.
The thoughts of Wilkie were at this time consid-
erably occupied with his projected picture of "Knox
Administering the Sacrament at Calder House,"
which, as previously stated, he intended as a com-
panion-subject to his "Knox Preaching at St.
Andrews." In a letter of the period he gives some
interesting details of his intended manner of treating
the subject, such as only increase the regret that
he did not live to finish the picture. The sketch
of it, however, was completed, and it was sold
after his death for £84. The picture itself,
only partially advanced, became the property
of the Royal Scottish Academy for the sum of
£189; and is now to be seen as it was left by
the artist, in the National Gallery at Edinburgh: a
picture which, even in its unfinished state, is emi-
nently characteristic of some of Wilkie's best quali-
ties, and gives ample assurance that, had he lived to
complete it, it would have taken a foremost place
among his numerous works.
CHAPTER X.
His departure to the East-His arrival at Constantinople-Commencement of
his "Oriental Sketches"-His first view of Jerusalem-His impressions of
it-His return from the Holy Land-His last illness-Death and burial-
Remarks.

AVS
E come now to Wilkie's last and fatal ab-
sence from home. In the autumn of
1840 he set out on a journey to the
East. As this step seems to have been taken some-
what suddenly, there were all manner of speculations
as to its motive; on which, however, it were idle to
dwell. We have reason to believe, from his own
words, that, however hastily carried into effect at
last, the project had been present to his mind for a
considerable time. With regard to the motive he
speaks plainly enough when, writing to Sir Robert
Peel from Jerusalem on the 18th of March 1841, he
says, "It is a fancy or belief that the art of our time
and of our British people may reap some benefit, that
has induced me to undertake this journey." He then
IN HIGH SPIRITS.
165
goes on to say that he wished to "inquire and judge,
not whether he could, but whether those who were
younger might not find it advantageous, in the ad-
vance and spread of our knowledge, to have a per-
sonal acquaintance with the localities of Scripture,
when the great task was to be essayed of represent-
ing Scripture history."
He further tells us that it distressed him to think
that none of the great Italian painters who had
illustrated Scripture incidents, had themselves ever
visited the Holy Land, and that consequently much
of its characteristic scenery, character, and costume
could only have been approximated to—not truly
represented. It seems to have been almost entirely
under the influence of this feeling that the unfor-
tunate journey was undertaken.
It is stated by his friend Collins, that when he
went to bid him farewell, a day or two before he
left home for this his last journey, he found him in
high spirits, enlarging with all his early enthusiasm
on the immense advantage he might derive from
painting in the Holy Land, on the very ground on
which the events he was to embody had actually
occurred. Collins asked him, on the occasion, if he
had any guide-book, when he answered "Yes, and
166
ON THE CONTINENT.
the very best;" and then unlocking his carpet-bag, he
showed him a Pocket-Bible. Mr. Collins adds, “I
never saw him again; but the Bible, throughout Judea,
was, I am assured, his best and only guide-book.'
""
On setting out upon his journey he was accom-
panied by Mr. Woodburn, a gentleman of consider-
able culture and knowledge of art. They visited, in
the first instance, some of the galleries of Holland;
after which they made their way to Munich, thence
intending to go to Constantinople, Syria, and Egypt.
At Munich he met with the celebrated painter of
Germany, Cornelius; with whom, especially on ac-
count of his enthusiasm for art, he was greatly
delighted. In the palace of Schleisheim, near Munich,
he had the gratification of seeing his own admirable
picture of "The Reading of a Will," painted for the
late King of Bavaria. He was pleased to observe
that it had received an excellent place in one of the
rooms set apart for the Modern School. It was in
good condition, although from some small cracks which
were discernible he inferred that it had been var-
nished once or twice. Leaving Munich, he after-
wards visited Vienna and Pesth, and on the 1st of
October he landed at Rustchuk, which was his first
contact with Orientalism and the Moslem Empire.
:
ARRIVAL AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
167
The entirely new phase of life which met him here
seems to have impressed him very forcibly. "I can
remember my first impression," he says, "when, land-
ing at Dieppe, I first saw France; and when, in passing
the Bidassoa, I first saw Spain; but at Rustchuk, where
we landed on the 1st of October, the wonder of the
first sight of the first town, city, or village I have seen
of the Moslem Empire, has far exceeded either."
He arrived at Constantinople on the 4th of the
month, and was much struck by the appearance of
the place.
He says, "The dress and appearance of
the people are not so new to me as the houses and
villages." A Turkish fair which he stumbled upon
on his way to Konstanjez interested him greatly.
It consisted of an encampment of some two thou-
sand people, in booths and tents, apart from all
houses, where all sorts of manufactured articles were
exposed for sale, amid purchasers seemingly of all
nations; thus presenting a most bizarre and interest-
ing aspect, especially to one who was looking upon
it for the first time.
While struck with the novel appearance of the ob-
jects which met his eye at Constantinople, and with
the well-known beauty of its situation as a city, he
has added his testimony to that of all other travellers
168
((
THE ORIENTAL SKETCHES."
as to the meanness and insalubrity of the internal
arrangements. The houses, he speaks of as little and
paltry; the streets, as narrow, dirty, crowded, and
ill-paved to such a degree that they look "more like
a dried-up watercourse than a channel or promenade
for civilized men." While here his pencil was not
idle. He made a beginning of his beautiful "Oriental
Sketches" by painting "The Letter Writer," or,
as he called it, "The Scribe of Constantinople," fol-
lowed by the portrait of "Prince Hallicoo Mirza and
his Cup-bearer." In this latter picture the contrast
of the Asiatic and African races is presented in a
very striking manner. There is an expression of
grateful and confiding affection put into the coun-
tenance of the negro, which would seem to imply
that this dusky cup-bearer had met with a kind
and considerate master. "The manner," says a
critic, "in which Wilkie has treated this head,
shows how art can detect the beautiful beneath the
mask of external ugliness, bring out latent expres-
sion, and render predominant traits which escape
the vulgar observer.” Among other things which
he painted at Constantinople was a picture of a
Tartar narrating in a Turkish café the taking of St.
Jean d'Acre; a picture which was disposed of, at
AT SMYRNA.
169
the sale of the artist's works, for one hundred and
seventy-five guineas, and which constitutes one of
the engraved series of Oriental Sketches. Never,
indeed, was Sir David Wilkie more assiduous in his
labours than during his stay in Constantinople. His
journals never were fuller, his letters never longer or
more minute, and all this simultaneously with the
production of a large number of sketches and paint-
ings strikingly characteristic of the people.
these he is said to have made no fewer than fifty-
three in Constantinople itself, and several others
in the district of Pera, while at the same time he
contrived to reserve to himself an occasional even-
ing on which to enjoy the society of English friends
who happened at the time to be resident there.
Of
Several things conspired to keep him there longer
than he had intended or wished,-notably the
war in Syria, which was then going on. We find
him at Smyrna, however, on the 15th of January
1841; "the first city," he says, "which we have
reached on our journey that is mentioned in Scrip-
ture; so that," he adds, "we may be said to have
reached the outskirts of the Holy Land." This
town he found, in point of society, most agreeable.
Here he remained, partly by compulsion however,
170
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF JERUSALEM.
as he required to wait for an Austrian steamer, more
than a fortnight. He next went to Beyrout, thence
to Jaffa; and on February the 27th he was grati-
fied by the first view of Jerusalem. He travelled
thither from Jaffa on mules and horses. After jour-
neying all day the party arrived at nightfall at
Ramla, the ancient Arimathea, and were received at
the Armenian convent, where they remained all night,
and were hospitably entertained.
ing they resumed their march.
Early next morn-
After many turn-
ings and windings, ascents and descents, he suddenly
caught a sight, and, he says, "oh, what a sight!—
of the splendid walled city of Jerusalem."
It struck him, he tells us, as unlike all other
cities; it recalled the imaginations of Nicolas Pous-
sin,—a city not for every day-not for the present,
but for all time, as if built for an eternal Sabbath
the buildings, the walls, the gates so strong and
so solid, as if made to survive all other cities. Both
he and his companion, Mr. Woodburn, were delighted.
beyond expression that at length, after a journey of
six months and twelve days, with many interrup-
tions, they had reached the "most interesting city
in the world"-Jerusalem.
On his coming nearer, the impression was rather
"
DILIGENCE IN BUSINESS.
171
deepened than otherwise; and although he approached
from its least imposing side, yet the aspect of its
stupendous walls, its elevated site, its domes and
minarets,—still rising in their greatness after all the
city had suffered,-impressed him with the idea that
ancient Jerusalem might still, physically as well as
morally, remain the most enduring city in the world.
It is scarcely necessary to say that he experi-
enced the utmost pleasure and satisfaction in visit-
ing the various points and places of interest both in
Jerusalem and in the country around.
On the par-
ticulars of these visits it would be here out of place
to enter. While resident at Jerusalem he carried
on a wide correspondence with eminent men, as well
as with his relatives, in England. He was assidu-
ous also in his professional labours, having painted
a variety of portraits, as well as made sketches and
pictures of local incidents and scenes. He left Jeru-
salem for Jaffa on April 7, 1841. From that place
he took ship to Damietta.
Alexandria, on the 22nd. Next day, while at sea,
he was attacked by severe cramp of the stomach-
the harbinger of that which was so soon to prove
fatal. It passed off, however, at that time, and he
reached Alexandria on the 30th April comparatively
Thence he sailed for
F+
172
ILLNESS AND DEATH.
While he
well. In this place he lingered, doing some art-
work, for about a fortnight or three weeks. He
sailed from Alexandria for Malta in the steamship
Oriental, on board of which he wrote a letter to his
sister, dated May 26, 1841. The tone of this letter
was peculiarly hopeful. It contains no reference to
his health, but joyfully anticipates his return to his
own home and friends, and concludes with instruc-
tions that the house may be got "into condition
for his arrival. These hopes and expectations, alas !
were doomed to a sad and fatal reversal.
was at Malta he is said to have indulged impru-
dently in drinking bad lemonade and in eating fruit,
and complained afterwards of pain and uneasiness in
the intestinal organs. He became worse on his
voyage from Malta to Gibraltar. Remedies were ad-
ministered by the surgeon of the ship; but on enter-
ing his cabin on the morning of June 1st, to pay him
his usual visit, he found him in a half-unconscious
and incoherent state. Everything was done for him
which the circumstances admitted of, but in vain.
His course was run; he rapidly sank into unconscious-
ness, and quietly expired at eleven o'clock forenoon.
The ship, which had recently left Gibraltar, put
back to that place, and permission was asked of the
COMMITTED TO THE DEEP.
authorities to take the body ashore.
173
This, for some
reason or other, was refused, and there was no alter-
native but that the honoured remains of this amiable
man and illustrious painter should find a "wander-
ing grave" in the waters of the Mediterranean. The
log-book of the ship has several short entries relative
to the event, from the last of which we learn that at
8.30 P.M., lat. 36° 20′, long. 6° 42', engines were
stopped, and the body of Sir David Wilkie was
committed to the deep, burial service being per-
formed by the Rev. James Vaughan, rector of Wrox-
hall, near Bath.
We are reminded of the words of the poet:-
So, meekly stooping side by side,
They raised the plank, till, slanted steep,
Its sombre load began to slide
Sheer down into the gulfing deep.
"A ghastly splash, a sob of pain,
A shuddering sigh from lip to lip!-
Great Nature had her own again,
And sadly onward sailed the ship.
"But empty was the ship that day,
And the calm night was unenjoyed,
At thought of bosoms far away
That yet would know a greater void.
"But not forgotten is his grave,
Although without a stone or sod;
For still the sunshine seeks its wave,
With orient dawns direct from God."
174
MOURNING IN ENGLAND.
He
The truthful
Wilkie was emphatically a popular artist.
was popular with all classes alike.
simplicity, yet real power, of his pictures spoke to
the heart and understanding of all; and he was
found to be a true interpreter of man to man. In
all the relations of life he was affectionate and con-
fiding, and in all his professional transactions he
was honourable in the highest degree. He was
distinguished for his persevering industry, and the
thorough conscientiousness with which he brought
his powers to bear on any work which he undertook.
He had many friends, and his friendships were last-
ing; as for his enemies,-if indeed he had any,-
he must have commanded at least their respect.
The tidings of his sad and untimely death made
mourning in England; and in the gathering which
took place in London shortly after his death, to
honour his memory and genius, all shades of politi-
cal opinion were represented, and yet merged in the
sense of a common loss. With the late artist's illus-
trious friend Sir Robert Peel in the chair, all orders
of nobility, all sorts of professions, all branches of
science, all departments of art, stood there in the
persons of their most notable representatives, and
vied with each other in expressions of admiration
A TRIBUTE OF AFFECTION.
175
and respect for the genius and virtues of the de-
parted.
They voted him a monument in the form of a
statue, to be placed in the inner hall of the National
Gallery: an affectionate, yet in some sense a super-
fluous tribute, to one who, by the thrilling pathos
and the tender humanity of his works, had strength-
ened the sense of a common brotherhood in all, and
had thus already erected a truer and more perma-
nent statue of himself in the inner hall, not of the
National Gallery, but of the national heart.
1
CHAPTER XI.
GENERAL ESTIMATE OF WILKIE.

HE character and career of Sir David Wilkie
are the most striking refutation possible
of the common theory, that genius of a
high order is inseparably connected with an unhappy
temperament and an ill-regulated mind. In no man
was that "prudent self-control" which the bard
assures us is "wisdom's root" more markedly appa-
rent. Had his occupation been the most prosaic, had
his life been the most uneventful and obscure, he
could not have presented a more perfect pattern of
the so-called ordinary virtues. Young men in any
Untiring industry,
rank can have no safer model.
a thorough determination at all times to do his very
best, patience, punctuality—“ as the appointed hour
struck, Wilkie was there"-would have won for
him at least a modicum of success in any walk of
life. He worked as if he had no genius; and then
CHARACTER OF WILKIE.
177
he had genius too! Given such conditions, and a
brilliant career becomes a certainty. But all this
might have been, and yet Wilkie might have been a
detestable man; standing high above his fellows, he
might have been hated in his lonely grandeur by
those he had so quickly left behind. On the con-
trary, no one was more beloved than Wilkie; no
one found at all times so many outstretched hands
ready to help him when he required help; no one
had so many admiring voices to congratulate him as
he marched from success to success. Honest, honour-
able, modest, kind, gentle, moderate, a pleasant com-
panion and a considerate friend, he had all the
elements of character which make a good citizen
and a trusted associate, which render a man loved,
esteemed, and honoured. And though we cannot
for a moment admit that men of genius are less
bound by ordinary obligations than are common
mortals, or subscribe to the monstrous doctrine that
would make the possession of the divine afflatus a
mantle for the covering of any or every sin, yet
none the less do we doubly rejoice when one of the
gifted race shines forth a complete, a perfect chryso-
lite. Here is no occasion for lame apologies; here
is no danger of silly admirers being lured to ruin by
(612)
12
178
HIS EARLY DILIGENCE.
""
ascribing to the splendour of genius what is in
reality due to weakness of character. And let those
to whom "temptation" is an "irresistible agency,'
and those who fall are "hapless victims," mark well
the incidents of this career. Let them behold with
attention the boy of fourteen sent from his home in
the rural manse of Cults to live in lodgings alone in
Edinburgh. He is now launched in life, he is re-
sponsible for himself now; observe how he dis-
charges the responsibility. The Academy, too, was
only open to him from ten to twelve in the morn-
ing; how would most ignorant country lads have
filled up the long day, for which there was no one
to call them to account? This is how Wilkie filled
his up--"Those who sought Wilkie in Edinburgh,
either found him drawing at the Academy, 'where
he was as punctual in his attendance as time itself;'
or pursuing his studies in his lodgings in Nicolson
Street; or hunting for characters to work into pic-
tures, which he now began to contemplate. His
progress in study was unexampled his roughness
of handling softened into grace and ease, his crude
and heavy colouring into brightness and harmony,
and the heads which he had drawn at random, and
only because they were odd or remarkable, he now
LEISURE HOURS, HOW SPENT.
179
began to employ in groups which portrayed manners
or embodied sentiment."
Again: "He laid down, as Hume did, a scheme
of life and of study, from which he had the fortitude
never to depart. He resolved to be frugal; for the
small stipend of Cults, with four boys and a girl
depending on it, required some care; and he was
sensible that, in choosing art for a profession, he had
staked his all on a desperate cast, and that he must
win or die. He was therefore watchful in his ex-
penditure, and careful in his choice of companions.
Of a frame too delicate to share in the robust amuse-
ments of the stirring lads of Auld Reekie,' he loved
to wander in his leisure hours about the streets and
squares, observing the masons at their daily toil,
carmen with their teams, and more particularly the
groups which crowded the Grassmarket and the High
Street, bringing with them that country-like or rural
air by which the people of the vale and hill are dis-
tinguished from those of the city." He was always
on the look-out for character. "He frequented
trysts, fairs, and market-places, where there is gener-
ally a large assemblage of the country-people of all
ages, bargaining or disposing of their various com-
modities.
These were the sources whence he drew
180
ARTISTIC LOVE OF EXACTITUDE.
((
his best materials; there he found that vigorous.
variety of character impressed on his very earliest
works, which has made them take such a lasting
hold on the public mind." And even at that early
age, the careful conscientiousness and artistic love of
exactitude which distinguished him through life be-
gan to develop themselves. 'It was not enough to
say to Wilkie, 'Draw that antique foot,' or 'Draw
this antique hand.' No; he required to know to
what statue the foot or the hand belonged; what
was the action, and what the sentiment.
He soon
felt that in the true antique the action and senti-
ment pervaded it from the crown of the head to the
sole of the foot; and that unless this was known,
the fragment was not understood, and no right
drawing of it could be made. When he knew the
meaning, he then began, and not till then, to outline
it in, studiously and slowly; telling those who re-
proached him with being tardy, that the meanest
figure in the humblest group in the works of every
great artist had a meaning and a character.”
And when, a young man, just twenty-one, all
London rang with his fame, and his picture, “The
Village Politicians," was the cynosure of all eyes,
how did he comport himself then? Did early dis-
FAMOUS, YET HUMBLE.
181
tinction turn his head, as it has turned so many?
Let us hear what his faithful biographer says of this
period: "There was a daily crush to see it [the pic-
ture]; crowd succeeded crowd of gazers and won-
derers from morning till night. The effect of all
this on the placid mind of the artist himself was
not unnoted. He was silent amid all the praises
showered upon him by the press and by the people;
and his only return for flattery, of which few were
sparing, was a faint smile and a customary shake of
the head." Wilson, a fellow-artist, also remarks :
"I did not perceive that the sudden fame of Wilkie
made the smallest change; he continued the same
modest man and the same anxious student after the
exhibition of The Village Politicians' as he was
before. Indeed, he rather seemed to avoid notice,
and to attach himself more to his early companions
in art."
C
But a short time before this great success the
young artist had not been ashamed to record in a
letter home the following expedient-one among
many, no doubt-by which he tried to keep down
expenses, small in themselves, but great in the eyes
of the poor but proud-spirited youth, to whom debt
and dependence were the most irksome of all bur-
182
THE FUTURE TREMBLING IN THE BALANCE.
dens :-" Amongst the many ways by which we try
here to save expense is that of cleaning our own
boots and shoes; for you must know that the people
of the house will not clean them, and when they
send them out to the shoe-blacks in the street, they
become expensive. To remedy this, I have got
both blacking and brushes, and clean them every
morning myself. You may tell Nanny and Jean
that I can now show them how to make the shoes
shine." His entire conduct at this crisis was indeed
most admirable. His whole future was trembling
in the balance; it seemed extremely improbable that
he would be able to hold his ground in London; his
small stock of money was nearly gone, and he could
get little or no employment as a portrait-painter;
his health was bad, and his relatives were warmly
urging his return to the northern kingdom. Yet to
go back would, he knew, be professional ruin. In
his own modest words: "When I was in Scotland
I considered that everything depended on my suc-
cess in London; for this is the place of encourage-
ment for people of our profession, and if we fail here,
we never can be great anywhere." "Yet," says his
biographer, "in his letters of that time, when fame
and fortune were in the balance, little of hope or of
A PAINFUL INCIDENT.
183
fear is expressed." What was depressing in his
prospects was softened; what was good, dwelt upon.
Yet here was no mad determination to do or die.
He wished to remain; but if it was clear that, after
a time, he could not maintain himself, then he would
remain no longer. His calm, sound judgment, took
in the whole situation, and weighed it as if it had
been that of another. And so when his triumph
came, young as he was, he was ready for it. His
singularly well-balanced, well-disciplined mind saw
things in their true proportions; he was gratified
by his success, but not overthrown by it. And
when, a few years later, and an Associate of the
Royal Academy, he sent for exhibition his picture
of "The Wardrobe Ransacked," how meekly did he
take the seemingly, at least, gross insult of being
asked by the Council to withdraw it, as not worthy
of his reputation! He showed no sense of resent-
ment. He seems to have felt little or none. This
is how he records the occurrence in his diary: One
day a note was put into his hand from his friend
Sir George Beaumont, requesting to see him on
something of importance. "I went at once," says
Wilkie, "to Grosvenor Square, where I saw Sir
George Beaumont, who told me that West had
184
QUALITY OF WILKIE'S GENIUS.
waited on him, and expressed a wish that I should
withdraw from the Exhibition my picture of 'The
Man with the Girl's Cap' ('The Wardrobe Ran-
sacked'), for it was considered not equal to my
other productions. I said that the disgrace of
withdrawing a picture was probably greater than
the harm which exhibiting it could do me, but
that I should consult some of my friends in the
Academy about it. I called on Shee at the Aca-
demy, who told me that the prevailing opinion
amongst my friends in the Council was that it
would be prudent to withdraw it. I consented to
withdraw it accordingly." Not a word more. In
a career singularly prosperous, this, and perhaps his
not being elected President of the Royal Academy
on the death of Sir Thomas Lawrence, were the only
mortifying incidents. Professional prosperity came
to him early; it continued unbroken until death
snatched him, too soon, from his pleasant though
laborious life, and from his troops of friends.
True, Wilkie's genius, perfect of its kind, and of
a high order, was still not the highest of all. It
wanted grandeur, passion, that touch of the sublime
which in each of the arts is confined to one or two.
Pretty much the same thing may be said of his
LOVE FOR KINDRED AND FRIENDS.
185
character. Placid, kindly, admirable as he was, take
him all in all, he is slightly uninteresting. There
is a lack of something, we scarce know what; there
is a monotony even in his excellence that wearies
us. If it be possible to have too much self-com-
mand, Wilkie had it. A man without an impulse,
with no enthusiasm, or with an enthusiasm so calm
that it scarce deserves the name; whose pulses
never beat faster, and never slower; who, devotee
of the fine arts as he was, deliberately announced
his intention, if he ever married, to marry for
money, is not one to elicit the warmest sentiments
of our nature. Everything short of the highest he
was, in art, in life: that fiery temperament which
is the artist's pride and peril he had not-well, per-
haps, for him that he had it not. He had not the
last charm; but when we have said that, we have
said all that can be said in the way of criticism that
is not entirely laudatory.
That he felt a good deal, in a sort of still way, is
undoubted; and as a son, brother, and friend he
was most affectionate. Many passages in his letters
home show this; nor were there wanting many
practical proofs of it besides. Writing from London
soon after his arrival there, and when struggling
186
LETTERS TO THE MANSE.
with difficulties, he thus answers an appeal from his
father to return home. He has just pointed out the
many reasons for his trying to remain where he
was as long as possible; and then it seems to strike
him that he may appear unkind. So he adds:
"However strong these arguments may be, they are
not sufficient to apologize for not coming to Scot-
land. You will no doubt feel it rather hard being
deserted by us all at the time you most need us;
more particularly by me, who have been all along
in your house in the days of your prosperity, and
now, when adversity comes, I am found at a dis-
tance." Later, he writes to his sister: "Although
you say you wrote me sooner, at my mother's re-
quest, than you otherwise intended, I was anxious
enough, before your letter came, to know how my
father was doing. I am sorry to hear that his
deafness has increased; but if he is able to read as
much as you say, he must be a good deal better
than when I left you. I hope he takes all proper
care not to fatigue himself with it. I beg you will-
write as often as you can, and inform us of our
father's health. I shall always be glad to hear all
that is doing in the neighbourhood; not from any
curiosity to know the tittle-tattle of the place, but
1
1
1
:
.
I
I

ILLUSTRATION OF PRIMITIVE MANNERS.
187
that I may be able to interfere in case the interest
of my father or mother may be in any degree af-
fected by what is going on." He tries, too, to get
a piano for his sister. His letter in which he
records his efforts in this direction is illustrative of
the time, and of the primitive manners of rural
Scotland: "I was calling on Mr. Stothard the
other day, and I inquired of him if he had any
small pianofortes by him, which he said he some-
times had, and that he could get second-hand ones
so low as eight or ten pounds, but these he could
not recommend; however, if I chose to go the
length of twenty pounds, I might get a very good
second-hand one, with additional keys. But he
thought we should rather go the length of a new
one, which, although they do not make them them-
selves, he could get one from another maker for
twenty-three pounds. But if it was known that
Helen was to have an instrument of that value, it
might excite envy through the whole country-side.
He took the minutest interest in everything that
went on at his old home. Throughout his father's
long illness he showed himself full of anxiety and
affection; and when that illness was terminated by
death, nothing could exceed the care with which he
""

188
WILKIE'S FRIENDSHIP FOR HAYDON.
first selected and then carried out the arrangement
he thought most likely to conduce to his mother's
and sister's happiness,—that, namely, of having
them in London to keep house for himself. His
friendship for Haydon, that unhappy and erratic
spirit, illustrates another side of his character.
Strange that his most intimate friend should have
been a man as unlike himself as it was possible to
find. Neither of the two seems quite to have under-
stood the other; but after a fashion they were indis-
pensable to each other, and on more than one occa-
sion Haydon was the object of Wilkie's generous
kindness. Yes; unromantic though he was, Wilkie
was a noble character; in many respects a typical
Scotchman, but with a broad humanity besides,
which, caught up by his glowing pencil, has created
figures that will never die.


THE END
APR 1- 1915
E
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
3 9015 06233 5966
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