Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1879-10-31
NO. A.


Boston drew the following portrait of his
friend, the artist Hunt
My last figure is the apostle of beauty.
which to America more than any other per.
son of this generation William Morris Hunt
has been. Never was votary in his own pro-
fession more Jealous or sincere than Hunt
In his earnestness with his pupils he has
been heard to say ''it was not worth while TO
do anything but paint, and if the late Thomas
| Couture's opinion is correct, that the pencil
is pen, what a writer and unsurpassed auth
or Mr.. Hunt has been in this land He was
not reader of books, yet a converser on
any topic, of matchless gifts and many will
miss his speech more than we do the brush
that has left its splendor behind while the
humor that smiled, wit that sparkled, pathos
that melted, imagination that blazed and lii
every subject up, have their words preserved
| only in the little safes of individual recollec-
ton, to be quoted as his image comes into
many private talk. l remember his con-
densing the worth Of freedom into an apo
thegm-''Hou cannot work with your elbow
| bound When some one said he liked will
low tree not an oak, his answer was He
does not like the oak, but is only bullied by
it. He was child, declaring "there are lots
| of fun on earth, also in heaven, which wo are
| to have sure" He sang melodiously lie
dramatized like an expert on the stage. Some
of us one evening shivered at his description
of the death of an acrobat in France falling
from his lofty trapese to the ground, all the
| spectators rising without noise in the solemn
| hush to go out.
As a teacher he was for scholars in art, by
his contagious enthusiasm. what Agassiz was
for those in science. He created school af-
ter the French type-now in the manner of
Couture and afterward that of Millet He
secuted the idea that painting had its last
triumphs in the past, and is in any necessary
decline or decadence to-day or for the time to
come. He burned and was consumed for its
glory like the great Italians and older Greeks.
He was one Of the men of genius of our coun-
try and time, whom it takes so few Of our fin
gers to count, and whose orb we should not
let vanish and make no sign. 1t deserves
and will have permanent memorial Wash
ington Allston more impresses us as q great
man, divine and prophetic soul, and has in
his composition more quiet power of pervad-
ing human sentiment and certain heavenly
calm, limiting immortal truth and law. But
Hunt has the wider range, more fertile fancy
and more resolute will to accomplish and
achieve He was French in nature and cul-
ture, and had the French hand to finish hand
somely. presume not to decide his rnnk,
far less that of his several works He was
great alike in portraiture, landscape, history,
allegory, the walls of the Albany capitol being
witness with the magnificent figures. his last
performance, and perhaps principal monu-
ment of his fame. Although the canvas on
which he makes Niagara shine and seem to
thunder, may vie with the mural adorning,
and by the Jewess, one of his earlier pieces,
Titan is recalled, while many sketch in
charcoal or pastel is as perfect as any in color,
and we know not whether to prefer a scene
from Florida or the flower girl the trumpeter
n a hafhaFE MaFnorat nr ha ,5fv he
cat or the kid in his groups,-I leave him to
the jury, so hard to find, of any twelve men
on the earth, and to the history which will
enshrine his name as representative of the
New World worthy to be associated with
those of the Old.
II is more in my line to touch on his per-
sOnal traits so winning and humane He
sought not high society any company of his
fellow-creatures WAS good enough for him,
and none he declared, from which he could
not learn. He was genial gentle, generous,
out-spoken, MS well as kind; it being very
difficult for him TO be reserved. The sight Of
suffering he could not bear, but ran to relieve.
Take the sick girl" he said, ''out of the
dark side of the house and put her into sun
ny room" OF another, who was weak, he
said to the employers, You know not how a
heavy weight feels to her" He would run to
hush a baby or carry in his lap q barking,
grinder out of town, he changes hats and
jackets with him, takes his organ, goes to the
door of the house near by, plays the tunes,
takes off his hat when the people come, is
recognized and gets six or seven dollars for
the poor Italian. He was not church-goer,
better had he been but he went to a liturgi-
cal service once and said he had to look at
the gowns and bonnets of the congregation,
he took in the sermon with the millonth
part of his mind Almost everybody loved
him The last fit use of his unoccupied stu
dio at Magnolia was to receive the dead body
of the young woman swept away and drowned
close by.
After his noble task at the Cataract and in
the New York legislative halls, he sank and
pined as from overwOrk. From sickness and
debility at Weathersfield, he went to the Isles
of Shoals, but recovered slowly, and in the
business which was his being could not keep
on. One trial to handle the brush resulted In
distress from which he could not react. The
river, as he had ridden over the bridge on his
way toward the island, had almost irresistibly
attracted him, and a curious, half-natural
tank of water behind the cottage where he
was dearly sheltered drew his repeated gaze,
1t was used to supply the little steamer, and
was scarce more than five feet deep. One
morning, after there had been rain and thun-
der and the sky was black, he went once and
again to the rim of this little basin, and the
second time he did not return he had slipped
in. II may have been an accident or aberrs-
ton of mind, although do not like to take
intention from any act or motion OF that sure
footed, fine handed, nicely balanced man. In
company he had kept up wonderfully and
seemed in good spirits, though SO weak.
When one to whom his health was precious
care entertained him with some piquant and
merry tales he said II never heard SO
many wicked stories before in my life, and l
should think you would not like to be alone
with your Maker" 'Ihe air, he SAID,
sis full of wickedness" and he took tum-
bier, which he turned over on the table and
affected to fill with air, adding, IF should
take a lucifer match, this would burn like fire
and birthstone" The thought was dreadful
to him of leaving the island for the main land.
We will take you, said some friends, to
Florida and have for fortnight beau
tiful time. "And then, after that p he
inquired II he would resign his life, it has
been inquired why not plunge in the sea IN
stead of that stone and earthern poolY The
last thing he ever thought of was to make a
show; he would go unobserved, His spirit
still aflame his body was greatly reduced. In
the last exquisite photograph taken of him he
looks like macerated monk or pillar saint,
his skin drawn like parchment over the hol-
lows of his cheek bones. What caused such
an end Not any particular trouble, among
his many gifts, but the misery of nervous
system hindering sleep and forbidding work
work which was his calling, consolation,
home and refuge from every i'll. 1t was
death to him to have TO stop in his designs.
When hope died he died. When we cease
we decease. Horace Bushnell feared age as
the period of failing power. Mr.. Hunts
heart was broken before he bowed his head.
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ENaLAND's DOMAIN AGAIN INvADED.-An