The Press. — London, England, 1853-08-06 00:00:00

" Solomon" with a sigh, " Ought such a pain " ter to be without a glass of sherry!" where upon two dozen more are sent in and added to the account. Much as he loved wine and pure air, he had a cockney affection for London smoke, and, with the eye of an artist, was indifferent to its purification. He dwells on " the sublime " canopy that shrouds the city of the world, " drifted by the wind or hanging in gloomy " grandeur over the masses of our Babylon. " The sight always filled my mind with feel " lugs of energy, such as no other spectacle " could inspire. Be erode,' said Fuseli to " me one day, ' it's like the smoke of the " Israelites making bricks.' It is grander,' " said I, for it is the smoke of a people who " would have made the Egyptians make bricks " for them." Well done, John Bull!' replied " Fusel." And certainly Mr. Benjamin Hay don was right willing to " spoil" both Egyp flans and Jews, and, having once found out how much easier it was to obtain money by asking than by working for it, trumpeted forth his wants to the public and private ear alike. It would be curious to add up the vast sums as noted down in his journal to have been given to him from time to time by the affluent, on whose bankers and human kindness ba lances he drew largely and with unscrupulous iteration. Mr. Harman aided at one time with 1,0001. ; Mr. Coutts, Sir Robert Peel, and many others were positively lavish in assist ance; Mrs. Coutts, indeed, so largely and repeatedly, that Haydon, prayerful as a men dicant monk, called her a " sort of providence "in this world." The sums obtained for some of his pictures were marvelously dispropor tioned to their merits : thus he realised for his "Christ's Entry into Jerusalem" no less than 3,0001., a picture which probably would be knocked down now for less than a hundred. But he painted as he spoke, and wrote in the " Areles vein," and mistook size for great ness, and fancied painting, like land, was pur chased by the acre, one little Paul Potter or Correggio being worth more than all the roods and perches of canvas spread out from the studios of himself, anal Mr. West into the bar gain, and for the especial reception of which Pantheons, Pantechnicons, and Pandemonium s seem to have been invented. Yet, strange to say, he neither wanted patrons nor admirers. The moral and artistic dash and courage of the young man who boldly braved the Royal Academy, who aspired to elevate the arts of his country, enlisted in his favour the public, which is ever ready to give every one a fair trial. The door of fortune was indeed opened to him so soon that his besetting sins were fostered rather than checked. It is clear from the balance-sheet of his insolvency of le3tl that his professional gains for sixteen years amounted to no less than 10,0411., while the causes of hie failure are put down to "heavy rent, want of adequate employment, law ex penses, and a large family "!!! Lesser luxu ries than these have provided the Bench and Bedlam with many an inmate ; nor can the frequency of entries like the following be any matter of surprise : - Harassed—fagged about in heat and filth to arrange money matters—flew about like an eagle—got things settled ; talked to this man—promised another ; took a cab and dashed home ; after lunch, devoured like a hun gry tiger, dashed at my canvas. While the sympathy of his friends kept pace with their generosity, even those to whom he had, by pen, word of mouth, and action, given the justest cause of offence, nay, even the Royal Academicians, were ready in his hour of need and sullen repentance to forgive, forget, and assist his necessities, heaping as it were coals of fire on his head : yet all proved but as a drop in the ocean, and offered no safe guard against practices which it is painful to notice. Suffice it to say, that his young pupils. whom as a master he ought to have been the last to injure, were among the first to be vic timised, and, having induced an inexperienced youngster to back his bills, he allowed him to be arrested and kept in prison, while he was at large and benefiting by the sums obtained on their security ; so when another of his scholars, scarcely aged eighteen, gained a con siderable prize in money, this Mentor managed to borrow more than half of it, nor was a far thing ever repaid. But, "Never mind the justice nor the impu- THE PRESS. deuce, let me only succeed," was his jesuit maxim ; and, in fact, he so firmly believed in the mirage, the Fata Morgans, of his future eminence, that he laid the flattering unction on his soul that he ultimately would be able to pay every shilling of debt, and excused himself on the plea of necessity and the good ness of intentions with which, time immemo• rially, a certain place has been paved. When too late he found out the error of his ethics, and, smarting under the whips made by the gods out of his headstrong pleasures, he thus sadly contrasts himself with his old fellow student Wilkie : His system was Wellington's, principle and prudence ; the groundworks of risk ; mine, that of -lapoleon, audacity, with a defiance of principle, if principle was in the way. I got into prison, Napoleon died at St. Helena; Wellington is living, and honoured; and Wilkie has had a public dinner given him at Rome, the seat of art and genius, and has secured a competence ; while I am as poor and necessitous as ever. Let no man use evil as a means for the success of any scheme, however grand. Evil, that good may come, is the prerogative of the Deity alone, and should never be ventured on by mortals. Our fiery and impulsive artist had a pro found admiration of the great duke, who found time, amid his infinite occupations of state, to read, and, what is more, to reply to, the multitudinous and lengthy letters which the untiring enthusiast pestered him with, on the subject of national art patronage. The duke, whose vocation was to conquer and govern, answered with his usual punctuality, but, caring little for these things, quaintly hoped " that he will have some cessation of " note-writing about pictures." Haydon, indeed, seems to have been the pest of premiers, and boasted that for " twenty-five years " he had let none rest; he plagued them all alike with his art schemes, and found their " indifference equalled " only by their ignorance." " God help the " Minister," said Lord Melbourne to him, " that meddles with art." Lord Palmerston, when " bored with Greek art " by him, took the dose with amiable patience, and " asked him to " dinner." Haydon, from painting " The Re form Banquet,"—a failure,—was thrown in con tact with all the Whigs and patriots, and has booked them from Brougham downwards. His characteristics of these worthies form not the least striking portion of these volumes. Lord Melbourne shines like a planet amidst the minor stars. Haydon was fascinated with this " delightful, frank, easy, unaffected man "of fashion," who " attacked his foe like a " handsome lion, and grappled him with the " grace of Paris ;" and, although our artist got nothing but smiles and hand-rubbing chuckles from the Poen chronic viscount, he rejoiced when Lord Grey went out of office, albeit his "charming insouciance was worse than the " frigid formality" of his predecessor. The duke, who was marked by neither one nor the other, went earnestly and directly to the point, and, while he set his face against all grants of public money to carry out Mr. Haydon's schemes, treated the artist with kind and unaffected consideration. Few heroes endured with greater fortitude than he did the operation of sitting to painters and sculptors, or more lamented the loss of his time, every moment of which was devoted to public service. While he sternly refused to lend himselfas a lay figure to promote portrait-printselling speculations, he felt flat tered by requests from cities and societies. He, however, kept the artistic view of the sub ject quite distinct from himself, and the follow ing iterating letter on this point may be cited : " The Nike of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr. Haydon. He will, according to what he stated to the committee at Liverpool. sit to Mr. Haydon for his picture. The composition of the picture is the business of the artist, of the committee of gentlemen who asked its exe cution, of the gentlemen for whom it is intended; of any. body, excepting the person who is to sit for it. The duke begs leave to decline not only being responsible for the oompoo4ition, but even to a knowledge of the subject. When he will be able to receive Mr. Haydon he will write to him ; but he begs leave to be clearly understood as having no knowledge whatever of the composition or sub ject of the picture for which he is to sit, excepting that it is for the committee of gentlemen at Liverpool, who have desired that he should sit to Mr. Haydon." The cautious F. M., having thus made assurance doubly sure, invited Haydon down to Weiner Castle in 1839, and no portion of the third volume of this autobiography is more SATURDAt, interesting than the daguerreotype of the great captain in the character of a kindly, high bred, simple, country gentleman : About two, after hunting, he gave me an hour and a half. I hit his grand, upright, manly expression— ha looked like an eagle of the gods, who had put on human shape, and had gut silvery with age and service. At first I was a little affected, but I hit his features, and all went off: riding hard made him rosy and dozy, his colour wu fresh—all the poitraita are too pale. I found that to imagine he could not go through any duty raised the lion : —" Does the light hurt your grace's eyes?' " Not at all ;" and he stared at the light, as much as to say, " see if you shall make me give in, Signor Light." 'Twas a noble head. I saw nothing of that peculiar expression of mouth the sculptors give him, bordering on the simpering. His colour wu beautiful and fleshy, his lips compressed and energetic. Next day was Sunday, and the duke is thus sketched in another and touching point of view:— A few moments after the service had began, the duke and Mr. Arbuthnot came up—no pomp, no servants in livery with a pile of books. The duke came into the pre• Bence of his Maker—without cant, without affectation—a simple human being. He pulled out his prayer•book, and followed the clergyman in the simplest way. I got deeply affected: here was the greatest hero in the world, who had conquered the greatest genius, prostrating his heart and being before his God in his venerable age, and praying for his mercy. However high his destiny above my own, here we were at least equal, before our Creator. Here we were stripped of extrinsic decorations, and I looked at this wonderful man with an interest and feeling that touched my imagination beyond belief. The silence and cm bosomed solitude of the village church, the simplicity of its architecture, rather deepened than decreased the depth of my sensibilities. At the name of Jesus Christ, the duke bowed his silvery hairs like the humblest labourer, and yet not more than others, but to the same degree ; he seemed to wish for no distinction ; at the epistle he stood upright, like a soldier ; and when the blessing was pronounced he buried his head in one hand, and uttered his prayer as if it came from his heart in humbleness. In the strange mixture of good and evil kneaded in the psychological composition of Mr. Haydon, the nervous, impulsive, imagina tive, overlaid the moral, the firm, and the high principled ; and it is but charitable to conclude that a screw was loose in the intricate and complicated mechanism ; nor can it be doubted that the poeo de matto, which Bacon deems essen tial to greatness, existed in his case somewhat more than a little ; nor can these confessions fail to be of use to the future student who aspires to raise himself above the level. These volumes, which Mr. Taylor has so ably and tenderly edited, have another and peculiar charm to readers who were born in the last century, and Haydon's contemporaries. In his diary, the images of men and things, of scenes and events, in which they took part are reproduced, and im pressions, once familiar, but now fading, are re called and renewed ; they return with all their truth and colour, and excite feelings of plea sure, as we thus live over again those happy days of youth when existence of itself was all. sufficient; and those only who were eye witnesses of incidents on which the fate of nations turned can fully estimate the in terest of these descriptions which, to the younger, rank simply as matter of fact —histo rical incidents. Mona's Isle, and other Poems. By T. J. Ouseley. London: Woodfall and Kinder. THIS little volume is at all events free from many of the affectations of more ambitious pretenders. It is happy in giving the local colours of a local subject, and in rendering agreeably those legends on some of which Sir Walter Scott had already dwelt admiringly. The Isle of Man, from the descriptions here con tained, must be a charming spot for a summer's ramble, and we doubt whether its attractions have been hitherto so pleasantly recorded. The author found some unusual charms at Onchan:— Fair Onchan like a cloudlet calmly lies, Studding the hill above the glassy bay; A tiny hamlet bosomed in the skies; Its dwellings seeming on a summer's day Like sheep when on a mountain's brow they stray, Dotting the distant verdure,—snowy white:— Here Mona's fairest Maid, so Miummen say, Dwells the admired of all, a fairy sprite, A glimpse of heaven on earth is she to mortal sight. His further references to this fair vision will tempt many a pilgrim who should furnish himself with Mr. Ouseley's portrait of the original. The Isle of Mona occupies about half the present volume. The rest is filled with detached pieces—all of them evidencing a health" frame of mind, and some of them offering promise of lite rary power.