Having a face and person which had some pretensions to beauty and comeliness, Mrs. Wollstonecraft had been frequently solicited to marry; but previously to her acquaintance with Mr. Fuseli, she had never known any man "possessed of those n.o.ble qualities, that grandeur of soul, that quickness of comprehension, and lively sympathy," which she fancied would be essential to her happiness, if she entered into the marriage state. These she found in him; but there was a bar to all her hopes in this quarter; for he was already married to a woman whom he loved.

For some years before their acquaintance, with the view of usefulness which she had prescribed to herself, Mrs. Wollstonecraft "read no book for mere amus.e.m.e.nt, not even poetry, but studied those works only which are addressed to the understanding; she scarcely tasted animal food, or allowed herself the necessaries of life, that she might be able to pursue some romantic schemes of benevolence; seldom went to any amus.e.m.e.nts (being resident chiefly at Bath, and in the midst of pleasure), and her clothes were scarcely decent in her situation of life." The notions of privation which some of the revolutionists in France were now endeavouring to inculcate, rather encreased than diminished this tendency in Mrs. Wollstonecraft, and Fuseli found in her (what he most disliked in woman) a philosophical sloven: her usual dress being a habit of coa.r.s.e cloth, such as is now worn by milk-women, black worsted stockings, and a beaver hat, with her hair hanging lank about her shoulders. These notions had their influence also in regard to the conveniences of life; for when the Prince Talleyrand was in this country, in a low condition with regard to his pecuniary affairs, and visited her, they drank their tea, and the little wine they took, indiscriminately from tea-cups.

Fuseli had a talent for conversation peculiar to himself, and his knowledge of the cla.s.sics, of literature in general, and of the fine arts, was extensive, and his memory so retentive, that he seldom forgot what he had read or seen; these, aided by a great power and fluency of words, a poetical imagination and ready wit, enabled him at all times to put even a known subject in a new light. Talents such as these, Mrs.

Wollstonecraft acknowledged she had never seen united in the same person; and they accordingly made a strong impression on her mind.

"For," said she, "I always catch something from the rich torrent of his conversation, worth treasuring up in my memory, to exercise my understanding." She falsely reasoned with herself, and expressed to some of her intimate friends, that although Mrs. Fuseli had a right to the person of her husband, she, Mrs. Wollstonecraft, might claim, and, for congeniality of sentiments and talents, hold a place in his heart; for "she hoped," she said, "to unite herself to his mind." It was not to be supposed that this delusion could last long. From an admiration of his talents she became an admirer of his person, and then, wishing to create similar feelings in Fuseli, moulded herself upon what she thought would be most agreeable to him. Change of manners, of dress, and of habitation were the consequences; for she now paid more than ordinary attention to her person, dressed fashionably, and introduced furniture somewhat elegant into commodious apartments, which she took for that purpose.

But these advances were not met with the affection which she had hoped to inspire in Fuseli,--for he admired her chiefly for her talents; and in the warmth of her disappointed feelings she constantly vented complaints of being neglected. These availed so little, that sometimes when Fuseli received letters from her, thinking they teemed only with the usual effusions of regard, and the same complaints of neglect, he would allow them to be some days unopened in his pocket.

The tumult which was raised in her mind by conflicting feelings, having love for the object, and yet the wish that her affection should be so regulated as to be strictly within the bounds which she had a.s.signed to love, that of "strength of feeling unalloyed by pa.s.sion," injured in a degree her health, and unfitted her for those literary pursuits which required a more than ordinary exertion of the mind. For more than twelve months "she wrote nothing but criticisms for the a.n.a.lytical Review," and even these, which required but little exertion of the talents which she possessed, would not have been written but for her daily necessities. Fuseli reasoned with her, but without any effect, upon the impropriety of indulging in a pa.s.sion that took her out of common life. Her answer was, "If I thought my pa.s.sion criminal, I would conquer it, or die in the attempt. For immodesty, in my eyes, is ugliness; my soul turns with disgust from pleasure tricked out in charms which shun the light of heaven."

At length Mrs. Wollstonecraft appears to have grown desperate, for she had the temerity to go to Mrs. Fuseli, and to tell her, that she wished to become an inmate in her family; and she added, as I am above deceit, it is right to say that this proposal "arises from the sincere affection which I have for your husband, for I find that I cannot live without the satisfaction of seeing and conversing with him daily." This frank avowal immediately opened the eyes of Mrs. Fuseli, who being alarmed by the declaration, not only refused her solicitation, but she instantly forbade her the house. No resource was now left for Mrs. Wollstonecraft, but to fly from the object which she regarded: her determination was instantly fixed; she wrote a letter to Fuseli, in which she begged pardon "for having disturbed the quiet tenour of his life," and on the 8th of December, 1792, left London for France.

Shortly after her arrival in Paris, she again wrote to Fuseli, gave him her opinion of the state of public feeling at that important period of the revolution, and implored him to write to her occasionally. As this letter was not answered, all communication on her part during her residence abroad ceased.

The cause of Mrs. Wollstonecraft's protracted stay in France;--for she intended, prior to her departure from England, to have remained there only six weeks,--and the attachment which she formed while in Paris, are foreign to this memoir; besides, if they were not, it would be unnecessary now to detail them, as they have been long before the public from the able pen of him who afterwards became her husband.[41]

After an absence of nearly two years and a half, Mrs. Wollstonecraft returned to London, (in April 1795,) and on her arrival called upon Fuseli: the reception which she met with, it is presumed, was not very grateful to her feelings, for she shortly after wrote him the following letter.

"When I returned from France, I visited you, Sir, but finding myself after my late journey in a very different situation, I vainly imagined you would have called upon me. I simply tell you what I thought, yet I write not, at present, to comment on your conduct or expostulate. I have long ceased to expect kindness or affection from any human creature, and would fain tear from my heart its treacherous sympathies. I am alone. The injustice, without alluding to hopes blasted in the bud, which I have endured, wounding my bosom, have set my thoughts adrift into an ocean of painful conjectures. I ask impatiently what--and where is truth? I have been treated brutally; but I daily labour to remember that I still have the duty of a mother to fulfil.

"I have written more than I intended,--for I only meant to request you to return my letters: I wish to have them, and it must be the same to you. Adieu!"

"Mary."

"Monday Morning,--To Mr. Fuseli."

All communication ceased between the parties from this time until after Mrs. Wollstonecraft's marriage with Mr. G.o.dwin. Fuseli noticed this occurrence in a letter to a friend, in the following terms: "You have not, perhaps, heard that the a.s.sertrix of female rights has given her hand to the _balancier_ of political justice."

Fuseli saw Mrs. G.o.dwin but seldom; he dined only once at her table.

Indeed, this lady did not live long to enjoy the happiness which she had pictured to herself, in being the wife of a man of genius and talents; for she died on the 10th September 1797, after having given birth to a female child,[42] who has proved herself, by works of the imagination, to be worthy of her parents. Fuseli could not but feel much regret on the occasion; but as "grief does not give utterance to words," so he barely noticed the catastrophe in the postscript of a letter to Mr.

Roscoe, in these terms,--"Poor Mary!"

CHAPTER VIII.

Fuseli undertakes the Ill.u.s.tration of Cowper's Edition of Milton.--First notion of the "Milton Gallery" hence suggested.--Letter to Mr. Roscoe from Fuseli and Mr.

Johnson.--Curious circ.u.mstances attending Fuseli's Election as a Royal Academician.--Sir Joshua Reynolds's temporary secession connected with that event.--Fuseli's progress in the pictures for the "Milton Gallery."--Controversy between Fuseli and the Rev. Mr.

Bromley.--Subjects painted for "Woodmason's Ill.u.s.trations of Shakspeare."--Subscription towards the completion of the Milton Gallery.--Letter from Mr. Roscoe.--Fuseli contributes to "Seward's Anecdotes."--His Visit to Windsor with Opie and Bonnycastle.--Anecdotes connected with that Visit.--Letter from Mr.

Roscoe.--Mr. Johnson's Imprisonment, and Fuseli's adherence to him.--Anecdote of Lord Erskine.--Exhibition of the "Milton Gallery," and List of the Works composing it, with incidental Comments, &c.--Letter to Fuseli from his brother Rodolph.--Letter from Fuseli to Mr. Locke.

The Shakspeare Gallery was now (in 1790) nearly completed, and hence Fuseli's commissions for this had ceased. The success which had attended Boydell, in his edition of Shakspeare's works, induced Mr. Johnson to issue proposals for publishing one of Milton, which should not only rival this, but, in point of letterpress, designs, and engravings, surpa.s.s any work which had previously appeared in England. Cowper had long meditated giving an edition of Milton's poetical works, with copious notes on his English poems, and translations into verse of those in Latin and Italian; and, indeed, he had made some progress in the undertaking. Johnson, who was his publisher, urged him to complete it; to which he a.s.sented, and Fuseli was engaged to paint thirty pictures, which were to be put into the hands of the ablest engravers of the time.

Cowper proceeded with his part, and Fuseli laboured in putting upon canva.s.s the sublime, the pathetic, and the playful scenes in Milton.

That of "The Contest of Satan, Sin, and Death," was soon finished, and given to Sharpe to engrave. "Eve starting from seeing herself in the Water" was put into the hands of Bartolozzi. "Satan taking his flight from Chaos," and "Adam and Eve observed by Satan," were ready for the graver of Blake.

The serious mental indisposition of Cowper, which took place before he had completed his part of the work, and the opposition which Mr.

Alderman Boydell offered to the progress of the scheme, thinking that it would affect the sale of his edition of Milton, made Mr. Johnson resolve to abandon it altogether. This undertaking of Fuseli's was, however, the foundation of a stupendous work by him, "The Milton Gallery," of which I shall have occasion hereafter to speak, and which he appears to have meditated in August 1790, while at Ramsgate in company with Mr. Johnson; shortly after he began to paint for Cowper's projected edition of Milton's poetical works, as will be shewn by the following letter written by him to Mr. Roscoe, and to which Johnson added a postscript.

"Ramsgate, 17th August, 1790.

"MY DEAR SIR,

"I did indeed receive your letter, but had not the pleasure of seeing Mr. Daulby. The first time he called upon me, I happened to be at dinner with some company, and as it never entered my head the stately figure which I observed dropping from the coach should be our friend, I ordered myself to be denied. The letter was left, but no time mentioned when he would call again, or any place a.s.signed where I might find him. Johnson knew nothing of his abode. In about eight or ten days he called again, but I was at Woolwich: the next morning, I understand, he left town. You both will easily believe that I was extremely mortified, not to have had it in my power to enjoy an hour or two in his company; but I console myself with the thought, that he spent those hours with more satisfaction to himself.

"You may by this time have forgot the contents of your letter: it contains a comparison between your pursuits and mine; and no doubt I make the most advantageous figure on paper. I am on a road of glory; you are only crawling about from the white to the brown bed.

I should, however, not be very uneasy if I could, without a total change of situation, obtain a little of that "elbow-room" for my mind, which it seems you get by moving from a large house to a smaller one. Notwithstanding the success of my election at the Academy, and of the pictures which I have painted for the Shakspeare Gallery, my situation continues to be extremely precarious. I have been and am contributing to make the public drop their gold into purses not my own; and though I am, and probably shall be, fully employed for some time to come, the scheme is hastening with rapidity towards its conclusion. "There are," says Mr. West, "but two ways of working successfully, that is, lastingly, in this country, for an artist,--the one is, to paint for the King; the other, to meditate a scheme of your own." The first he has monopolized; in the second he is not idle: witness the prints from English history, and the late advertis.e.m.e.nt of allegorical prints to be published from his designs by Bartolozzi.

In imitation of _so great a man_, I am determined to lay, hatch, and crack an egg for myself too, if I can. What it shall be, I am not yet ready to tell with certainty; but the sum of it is, a series of pictures for _exhibition_, such as Boydell's and Macklin's. To obtain this, it will be necessary that I should have it in my power to work without commission or any kind of intermediate gain, for at least three years; in which time I am _certain_ of producing at least twenty pictures of different dimensions. The question is, what will enable me to live in the mean time? With less than three hundred a-year _certain_, I cannot do it. My idea is, to get a set of men (twenty, perhaps,--less if possible, but not more,) to subscribe towards it. Suppose twenty pounds each annually, to be repaid either by small pictures or drawings, or the profits of the exhibition, should it succeed, of which there can be no very great doubt.

"Such is, at present, the rude outline of my scheme: it is in this manner alone that I can exhibit that variety of picturesque ideas of which, I flatter myself, you have seen specimens amongst my productions on paper and canva.s.s; and now, tell me your opinion with your usual openness. I am in earnest, yours truly,

"H. Fuseli."

"W. Roscoe, Esq."

"The few pictures that have been painted for Boydell's scheme by our friend,--and he has little more to expect, from the numbers employed,--I need not say to you, are perfectly sufficient to justify the warmest expectations from the scheme he has projected; but they are trifling, when we consider what he is capable of were he perfectly at his ease for a few years, and at perfect liberty to choose his subjects. His plan has my hearty concurrence; and I have gone so far as to say, that I would be one of six, or even of three, to support him in it; but he prefers a larger number. You are the only one to whom it has been mentioned, and it should be spoken of with great delicacy, for it had better not be known until it is nearly ripe: think of it, and tell me your sentiments. It may be, and I am confident it is, unnecessary to tell _you_; but as such things are common in your experience, I shall say, that this is not the effort of a man whose circ.u.mstances are involved, to save himself from sinking. Our friend, though not rich, is perfectly free from inc.u.mbrances. We shall be in town in a few days.

"Yours, "J. Johnson."

On the 10th of February, 1790, Fuseli was elected a Royal Academician.

As his election was accompanied by a circ.u.mstance which caused a great sensation at that time, (I allude to the temporary secession of Sir Joshua Reynolds from the Royal Academy,) it will not be uninteresting to give Fuseli's account of the transaction, which I have heard him frequently relate.

The Earl of Aylesford, the intimate friend of Sir Joshua, had patronized M. Bonomi, an Italian by birth, a native of Rome, and by profession an architect; and, with the view of serving this gentleman, recommended him strongly to the protection of the President of the Royal Academy.

Accordingly, in the early part of 1789, M. Bonomi became a candidate for the preliminary step, an a.s.sociate of the Academy, in opposition to Mr.

Gilpin, well known as a landscape painter of merit, and who, for his amiable disposition and manners, was a man much respected and esteemed.

Sir Joshua exerted his influence to secure success to M. Bonomi; but as the number of votes for the two candidates, on the ballot, were found to be equal, the President a.s.serted his privilege of the casting-vote, which he gave in favour of the architect, avowing, at the same time, that he had done so with the intention of his being elected an Academician when a vacancy should occur, and thus becoming eligible, according to the laws of the Academy, to occupy the chair of Professor of Perspective, which was then vacant; considering it, as he said, highly desirable that this should be filled according to those laws, by an Academician, and that, in his opinion, M. Bonomi was the person best qualified for the situation. On the death of Mr. Meyer,[43] which took place early in the year 1790, M. Bonomi was accordingly proposed to succeed him as a Royal Academician. Fuseli, who had always been treated with great kindness by Sir Joshua, called upon him to solicit his vote for himself. The President received him with politeness, acknowledged the claims which he had to the distinction of an Academician, from the great talents which he possessed, and which no man appreciated more than himself; but he said, "Were you my brother, I could not serve you on this occasion; for I think it not only expedient, but highly necessary for the good of the Academy, that M. Bonomi should be elected:" and he added, "on another vacancy, you shall have my support." Fuseli, in answer, thanked Sir Joshua for his candour, and hoped if he tried his friends on _this_ occasion, he would not be offended. To this the President said, "Certainly not."

Sir Joshua was active in taking measures to favour the views of M.

Bonomi; and although he expected some opposition, from the spirit which was manifested on the former occasion, yet he was nevertheless very sanguine as to the ultimate success of this candidate. On the evening of the election, an expedient was resorted to, no doubt with the sanction of, but not acknowledged by, the President,--that of exhibiting on the table of the Academy some neatly executed drawings of M. Bonomi; which display had a contrary effect to what Sir Joshua expected. The friends of Fuseli protested against this, which they deemed an innovation, and urged with great propriety, that if drawings were to be shown, he should have the same chance as his compet.i.tor; stating at the same time, that his portfolio was as rich in these as any man's; "for the members," said they, "must be aware, that no modern artist excels Mr. Fuseli in design."

The sense of the meeting was taken; and after a warm debate, M. Bonomi's drawings were ordered to be removed.

As it was considered that Fuseli's claims had not been fairly met, those who were wavering in opinion before, now became fixed in his favour, and when the numbers were declared, there were twenty-one votes for, and only nine against him. This decision was evidently unexpected by Sir Joshua, who, on leaving the chair, shewed some degree of mortification; and on the 23d of February, 1790, thirteen days after the election had taken place, he wrote a letter to the Academicians, in which were these words: "I resign the Presidency of the Royal Academy, and also my seat as an Academician." It is unnecessary, in this place, to detail the means which the Academy took, and successfully, to recall him to the chair: suffice it to say, that, notwithstanding the chagrin which he experienced, in failing to carry the point for M. Bonomi, Sir Joshua was unaltered in his kindness to Fuseli, during the remainder of his life.

The employment which had been given to Fuseli by Mr. Alderman Boydell, for the Shakspeare Gallery, enabled him to save some money; he therefore proceeded with a degree of confidence in the great work which he had for some years meditated, and on which he was now actively employed,--the pictures which were to form the "Milton Gallery." In aid of these means, however, he expected to be able to maintain himself, during the execution of the work, by painting occasionally small pictures for the printsellers and booksellers, on whom the historical painters of this country have princ.i.p.ally depended for support. But in this he was in a great measure disappointed, for his compet.i.tors in the art raised a report, that his time was so much occupied in a scheme of such magnitude from Milton, that he had no leisure for any other subject,--hence their usual commissions began to decline, and at length almost ceased.

Fuseli felt this disappointment of his hopes, and in a letter to Mr.

Roscoe says, "I am convinced that of all the lies Nero told, that in which he a.s.serts art was supported by all the earth, was the most atrocious; and although _laudatur et alget_ seems to be intended for my motto, and though despondence often invades my pillow, yet my head and hand still keep on steady in the prosecution of my great work. May the hope which carries me on, not prove delusive."

The monotony of painting from one author, however, was in a degree broken by the variety of subjects which Milton's poetical works afford, for he could at will turn "from grave to gay:" this transition, Fuseli often acknowledged, afforded him considerable relief and pleasure.

In the year 1793, the Rev. R. A. Bromley, rector of St. Mildred's in the Poultry, issued proposals for publishing by subscription, two large quarto volumes of "A Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine Arts, more especially Painting;" and at the instance of Mr. West, the Royal Academy subscribed for a copy. The first volume appeared early in 1794, and the author, after having discussed and criticised the works of Michael Angelo and Raphael, thus expresses himself:--"The dignity of moral instruction is degraded whenever the pencil is employed on frivolous, whimsical, and unmeaning subjects. On this head, it is to be feared, there ever will be too much cause for complaint, because there ever will be persons incapable of solidity, although very capable of executing this art with power: strength of understanding, and ability in art or science, are very different things; they are derived from different sources, and they are perfectly independent of each other. The one can no more be instrumental to the communication of the other, than either can communicate temper or disposition. The finest art in the world may therefore be combined with the lightest and most superficial mind. Books are written of a light and fantastic nature by those who cannot write otherwise, and yet will write something. And so it is with painting; the mind of the artist can but give such subjects as are consecutaneous to its turn.--_The Nightmare_, _Little Red Ridinghood_, _The Shepherd's Dream_, or any dream that is not marked in authentic history as combined with the important dispensations of Providence, and many other pieces of a visionary and fanciful nature, are speculations of as exalted a stretch in the contemplation of such a mind, as the finest lessons as were ever drawn from religion, or morals, or useful history; and yet the painter who should employ his time on such subjects, would certainly amuse the intelligent no more than the man who should make those subjects the topics of a serious discourse. But what good has the world, or what honour has the art, at any time derived from such light and fantastical speculations? If it be right to follow Nature, there is nothing of her here,--all that is presented to us is a reverie of the brain. If it be allowable to cultivate fancy, that which has little or nothing of nature in its composition becomes ridiculous. A man may carry the flights of imagination even within the walks of the chastest art or science, till they become mere waking dreams, as wild as the conceits of a madman. The author of Observations on _Fresnoy de Arte_ very properly calls these persons, 'Libertines of painting:' as there are libertines of religion, who have no other law but the vehemence of their own inclinations, so these have no other model, he says, but a rodomontado genius, which shews us a wild or savage nature that is not of our acquaintance, but of a new creation.