Even when this transformation is fulfilled in the frescoes of Giotto, any intelligent study of his art at Padua and a.s.sisi, while keeping in mind the manner in which Pheidias felt and treated the human form in his sculpture, would prove to the student how distinctly visible is the link between the ancient and this mediaeval art; though the fact of the latter being fired with an ecstasy of spiritual emotion of which the Greek had no experience, may disguise the link where feeling in art is of more interest than form. There is the same detachment of one form from another, each being given its full expression and intention--which induces a feeling of simplicity and serenity in the greatest work. The form of the head is not smudged into the throat, nor the throat into the chest, nor the chest into the arms. Even in the smallest Greek coin or _intaglio_ of the best period this separate individuality of form in each part of the human frame is accentuated, and with it a sense of size and breadth. The same fundamental principles also, adhered to by the great Greek workmen in their treatment of drapery, is to be traced in the work of Giotto.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IDYLL." 1881]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PORTRAIT OF MISS MABEL MILLS (THE HON. MRS.

GRENFELL). 1877]

But the great Greeks did not invent the beauty they immortalised, any more than did Leighton and Watts; the Pheidian school intuitively chose the n.o.blest form it found in nature.[50] The notable gift with which nature endowed the artists of the Periclean epoch consisted of eyes to perceive, and taste to _prefer_, the form which, intrinsically and most convincingly, inspires admiration in those imbued with the finest sense of beauty--not a gift to invent something new and different from nature. In like manner the gift nature bestowed on Leighton and Watts was the same, a perception and a preference for n.o.ble form; and in this choice they had been educated by legacies from Pheidias and his school, but only so far as these legacies induced them to seek and perceive in nature herself the elements of such n.o.bility. In painting the magnificent head and shoulders ent.i.tled "Atalanta,"[51] or the reclining figures in "Idyll,"[52] Leighton copied as directly from nature as when he painted the portrait of "Miss Mabel Mills,"[53] where a similar beauty of form in the throat existed as in Miss Jones, who sat for "Atalanta" and "Idyll." When Watts painted his superb "Lady with the Mirror," one of his really great achievements, it was the model before him whose beauty he was recording, though his own sense in recognising it had been further inspired by his study of Pheidias. We need not go out of England to find types which are as completely n.o.ble as are those in the most inspiring art ever created, but the sense as a rule is wanting in English artists to select and to prefer such n.o.bility.

Leighton writes to a friend in 1879:--

"I have just remembered a circ.u.mstance which might be worth mentioning: I painted pictures in _an out-of-door top light_ and with realistic aims (of course, subordinate to style) in the old Frankfurt days before I came over here, and long before I heard of 'modern' ideas in painting. In this, perhaps, more than in anything, the boy was the father of the man, for it is still the corner-stone of my faith that Art is not a corpse, but a living thing, and that the highest respect for the old masters, who are and will remain supreme, does not lie in doing as they did, but as men of their strength would do if they were now (oh, _derisim_!) amongst us."

Leighton taught Watts to appreciate the Greek inheritance to be found in early Italian art; and I have frequently heard Watts comment on the evidence of this legacy in Giotto's work. Watts, by ventilating the results of his studies of Pheidian art with Leighton, and a.n.a.lysing the elemental principles on which it was grounded, aided his brother artist in securing a faster hold on the sources of his individual preferences.

No two characters could have been more dissimilar than those of Watts and Leighton, no two men could have led more different external lives; Leighton's great and varied gifts requiring for their full exercise the whole area of life's stage, Watts' genius demanding seclusion, and days undisturbed by friction with the outer world. Watts' first and great object in life was to preserve his work, and to bequeath it to his country, which he, happily for his country, was enabled to do; Leighton's object was to complete a work as far as industry and his gifts would enable him to complete it, then--as he would say--"to get rid of it and never see it again; but try to do better next time"! The one was frank, free, courageous; the other almost morbidly self-depreciative, sensitive, and timid. All the same, no two workmen could have had more sympathy with one another in their true aims and aspirations, or more mutual admiration for each other's artistic gifts.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "VENUS DISROBING FOR THE BATH." 1867 By permission of Sir A. Henderson, Bart.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "PHRYNE AT ELEUSIS." 1882]

Watts, to his credit, had from his first acquaintance with Leighton discerned that "the unusual position" which Leighton undoubtedly held from his first appearance in the London world to the day of his death, was due to the possession of unusual gifts, exercised in a very unusually generous and public-spirited manner, and not to reasons invented by those who were envious of this prominent position.

Watts wrote to Leighton after they became neighbours in Kensington:--

"I have been worrying myself by fancying you rather misunderstood the drift of my observations respecting the value of social consideration to a professional man, that I meant to imply you sold your pictures in consequence of the unusual position you undoubtedly hold; knowing me and my opinions as you do, you could hardly think so, yet poets and artists are proverbially sensitive beings. I know I am myself to a degree that could hardly be imagined, though not with regard to opinion of my work; I am resigned, if not contented, to preserve what I can do for posterity, conscious that no other judgment can really be worth anything; I am very often unhappy, thinking that after all the best I can do may not be worthy of being brought before the great tribunal at all; but I do not allow myself to brood over the subject more than I can help. However, I do not attempt to deaden the keen dread I have of giving pain or offence, and am really miserable when I think I have done so, or been unjust; I don't think I am often the latter, but I may by clumsiness fall into the former regrettable position. I should grieve indeed if any word or deed of mine should ever be offensive to you, for you know me to be always yours most sincerely,

"SIGNOR."

Immediately on his arrival from Italy Leighton paid a visit to his family at Bath, arriving on May 24. He returned to London shortly after, where his family joined him on June 15, and the introduction so long desired by Leighton took place between his parents and sisters and his great friends, Mr. and Mrs. Sartoris. In December 1854 Leighton's mother had written: "How delightful to see you again, and perhaps we may spend the next winter together, but of that I am uncertain. In England we shall not be, and both Papa and I incline to Paris, but Gussy has an anxious desire to go to Berlin. The Sartoris'

being in Paris would be a strong inducement to us to go there, as we very much wish to make your friends' acquaintance, and we should most likely meet at their house agreeable people. I am exceedingly sorry I overlooked Mrs. Sartoris' friendly message, which I have since discovered in your former letter. Pray offer her my best compliments, and a.s.sure her I consider her great kindness to you gives her a claim upon my sympathy, and I shall rejoice to have an opportunity of giving her this a.s.surance in person."

In February his mother wrote: "I hope you will not long be separated from your friends the Sartoris when you leave Rome. We all sincerely desire to become acquainted with the valued friends of whom we hear so much."

Later his father wrote: "With regard to your reasons for remaining at Rome during the spring, you have this time at least the best of the argument. If there were no other than your wish to give more tangible form to your grat.i.tude to your kind friends, the Sartoris, it would be sufficient, to say nothing of the drawings from M. Angelo and Raphael."

And in the same cover his mother says: "I feel, with your father, great satisfaction at your undertaking a likeness of Mrs. Sartoris--I hope it may prove a satisfactory one. Give our love to Mrs.

Sartoris." Leighton's younger sister kept a diary in those days.

Written in this are notes which describe the keen appreciation which she and her family felt for her brother's friends. "In fact she is, as Fred says, an angel. She seems very fond of him, as she might be of a younger brother.... She is very stout, high coloured, and has little hair. But the shape of her mouth is very fine, the modulations of her voice in speaking are exquisite. She is a creature who can never age, and before whose attractions those of younger and prettier women must always pale." "August 1855.--Fred returned to Bath to stay with us a little while. Beautiful drives together. So generous in giving me several volumes of poetry." "Sept.--Left us to go to Paris."

[Ill.u.s.tration: PORTRAIT OF MRS. ADELAIDE SARTORIS Drawn by Lord Leighton for her friend Lady Bloomfield, 1867 By permission of the Hon. Mrs. Sartoris]

While in London Leighton wrote the following to his master, Steinle:--

_Translation._]

10 MADDOX STREET, BOND STREET, LONDON, 1855.

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,--At last I am able to write to you again.

When I sent off my last letter to you I was busily packing for my journey; now I have been already six weeks in England, and it seems a year since I left Rome. I scarcely need tell you, dearest Friend, that at first, in this London hurly-burly, I hardly knew whether I was standing on my head or my heels: I will not say that this condition has not had a certain charm.

I have made several acquaintances, have been cordially received, and have had considerably more praise for my picture than it deserves. However, I have already set seriously to work again, and expect shortly to commence upon a new composition. It is a real grief to me, dear Master, to have to work without your guidance.

My _succes_, here in London, which, for a beginner, has been extraordinarily great, fills me with anxiety and apprehension; I am always thinking, "What can you exhibit next year that will fulfil the expectations of the public?" When I have settled anything definitely, I shall report to my master in Frankfurt.

Now, however, as regards the photographs. Owing to unforeseen circ.u.mstances, Mrs. Sartoris (whom I introduced to you in my last letter) was obliged to alter the plans of her journey, and will not leave this for Germany until the middle of September. What now? Will you wait so long, or shall I seek an opportunity to send you your seven things?

And now, my Friend, how are you occupied? Do you still sparkle with beautiful inventions? Tell me all that you are doing. I had a delightful surprise recently when I saw your long expected "Court Scene" in Paris; it is a charming composition.

I tell you nothing of the great Paris Exhibition, for you naturally will not neglect to see a thing so excessively interesting; it throws light upon a great many things. If only you could come in September! then we could meet again and renew old times a little; it would be very delightful. I should like extremely to arrange something of the kind with you; we should certainly agree very well.

Remember me most kindly to your wife and my old friends in Frankfurt, and keep in mind your loving pupil,

FRED LEIGHTON.

In a letter to his mother, before she arrived in London, Leighton refers to Ruskin's criticism when comparing his "Cimabue's Madonna" to Millais' "Rescue":--

LONDON.

I do wonder at the critics: will they never let "the cat die"?

What Ruskin means by Millais' picture being "greater" than mine, is that the joy of a mother over her rescued children is a higher order of emotion than any expressed in my picture. I wish people would remember St. Paul on the subject of hateful comparisons: "There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars, for one star differeth from another star in glory."

I spent last night an evening that Gussy would have envied me.

We (I and the Sartoris and one or two others) were at Halle's, who is the most charming fellow in the world.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDY FOR PORTION OF FRIEZE, "MUSIC" (not carried out in final design). 1883 Leighton House Collection]

Having sent his "Romeo" picture to Paris, Leighton was not quite unknown to the art world when he arrived there in September 1855. The "Cimabue's Madonna," hanging on the walls of the Royal Academy in London, and this picture being shown at the great International Exhibition in France, he can fairly be said to have entered at the age of twenty-four the arena where he competed with the first artists in Europe. By a mistake the "Romeo" picture was hung in the Roman instead of the English section in the International Exhibition. The following extract appeared in a publication at the time, and gives the unbia.s.sed criticism of one who was unknown to Leighton:--

"Strange it may seem, but such is the fact, that of the thirteen canva.s.ses she (Rome) has sent on this occasion to sustain her credit, that which for intrinsic merit takes the lead--in which soul for expression and true artistic feeling are conspicuous, is due to the pencil of an Englishman--Frederic Leighton, _ne a Scarborough, eleve de Mons. Edouard Steinle de Frankfort_. The subject of this picture--and it is a fine one--is the reconciliation of the Houses of Montagu and Capulet over the bodies of Romeo and Juliet. Let us hope that his native country may hear and see more of so promising an artist as Mr. Leighton."

And again:--

"When these lines were written on the other side of the Channel, Mr. Leighton had already sent his 'pencil's' first representation to the Royal Academy, causing therein not a little surprise, fluttering the dovecots in Corioli. We beg he will construe our sincere antic.i.p.ations into a hearty welcome."

In the early days of September 1855, Leighton was in Paris preparing to settle in for a winter's hard work. The following letters to his mother and father and to Steinle were written soon after his arrival.

In that to Steinle, Leighton alludes to the serious work he has before him, in painting "The Triumph of Music":--

HoTEL CANTERBURY, RUE DE LA PAIX, _Sunday, 1855_.

DEAREST MAMMA,--Though I have, of course, nothing to tell you yet, still, as it is Sunday morning, I send you a few lines as a token of continued vegetation. Paris is bright and warm and sunny, and contrasts incredibly with the murkiness of London.

I have already set to work to look for a studio, but shall have great difficulty in finding one, and shall have to pay about 1500 francs per annum _unfurnished_; my furniture I shall of course hire, not buy--_ci vuol pazienza_.

HoTEL CANTERBURY, _Sat.u.r.day, 1855_.

DEAR PAPA,--When one has bad news to swallow, there is nothing like taking the bull by the horns and engulphing the dose at once: this is the bull to be swallowed, horns and all. I have, after great trouble and manifold inquiries, taken _the only_ studio that at all suited me, and for that I give _unfurnished_ 150 francs a month. It is enormous, but unavoidable; nor have I been at a disadvantage from being an Englishman, for two artists of my acquaintance, one a _Parisian_ just returning from Rome, the other a Frankfurter, have seen precisely the _same_, and only the same, studios as I did. It is the dearth of studios and the great demand for them that makes the price so high. Those who have had studios some time of course pay very much less, others put up with little holes far too small to paint a picture of any size.

Carlo Perugini is painting in the studio of a friend, and that is a strip not large enough for one person. There was only _one_ studio which I could for a moment think of besides this one I have taken, and that costs infinitely less; but not only was it too small--it had been built _this_ summer, and is not yet finished painting, feels cold and damp, and would no doubt have laid me up with the rheumatism.

I have been advised and actually a.s.sisted in everything by Hebert, who is a friend as well as an old acquaintance, and than whom n.o.body knows the resources of Paris better. He took me about to get my furniture, &c., and I am happy to say that I have bought everything, including ample bedroom and table linen, crockery, and knives, spoons, &c., all under 30. I have quite a little _fond de menage_; this is the only cheap thing I have done in Paris, everything is exactly as dear as London. It certainly _is_ lucky I sold my picture.

My frame cost, with time and trouble of exhibition, 320 francs.

[Portion of letter to his father.]