_Wednesday, April 2, 1856._

In the morning, with Adelaide Sartoris, Browning the poet, Cartwright, and Leighton, to the Pourtales Gallery--a charming collection. The pictures that most pleased me were a Paul Veronese, a Rembrandt, and a Greuze. There is also a fine collection of Raphael ware--gla.s.s and bronzes. Pourtales has ordered by will that this collection should remain intact for ten years, and then to be sold to the highest bidder.

_Wednesday, April 9, 1856._

Last night, after a dinner given by a Lady Monson to Adelaide Sartoris, Leighton, and myself, at Philippe's, we adjourned to the first representation of the Italian translation of Legouve's play of "Medea"--that in which Rachel refused, after attending rehearsals, to act the princ.i.p.al part, and about which there was a trial. Great curiosity was shown about this performance, and there was a great scramble for places; and, although inserts for nearly three weeks, we were fobbed off with very bad seats in the orchestra. The play had great success, and that of Ristori was prodigious, but not greater than she deserved. The part is most arduous, full of transitions, and almost always on the full stretch. Her costume was most picturesque, having been designed by Schaeffer, and she looked like a figure on an Etruscan vase; and in no play that I have yet seen her in does she produce more effect than in certain pa.s.sages of "Medea." The audience was wound up to a pitch of frantic enthusiasm. I am always astonished at the effect she produces on the ma.s.s of the audience, when I know how few there are who really can follow the play. But, whether by means of her countenance, voice, or gestures, she contrives to make all the nuances of her acting felt by the public. I expect when she comes to London she will find a vast difference between this excitable and sympathetic audience and that stupid, flat collection of would-be fashionables who will _promener leurs ennuis_ at her performances.

Before his family had arrived in Paris the subject of the Orpheus ent.i.tled "The Triumph of Music," to which Leighton was devoting himself, was criticised by his father, which criticism Leighton answered in the following letter:--

I do not think honestly that the choice of a mythological subject like Orpheus shows the least poverty of invention, a quality, I take it, much more manifested in the manner of treatment than in the choice of a moment.

About fiddles, I _know_ that the ancients had _none_; it is an anachronism which I commit with my eyes open, because I believe that the picture will go home to the spectator much more forcibly in that shape.

To his mother he writes:--

RUE PIGALLE.

I have seen Scheffer,[55] who is cordiality itself to me; Robert Fleury, ditto, and I have further made the acquaintance of Ingres, who, though sometimes bearish beyond measure, was by a piece of luck exceedingly courteous the day I was presented to him. He has just finished a beautiful figure of Nymph, which I was able to admire loudly and sincerely. I have also been to Troyon, who was polite.

I am fiddling away at the preliminaries of my pictures, a disjointed and desultory period through which one has to wade to get at one's large canvas.

The Sartoris are of course, as ever, my stronghold and comfort.

Your loving boy,

FRED.

I have sent the sketch of my "Orpheus" to Ruskin, and don't yet know his opinion of that particular thing, but I feel about that, that as a _now_ responsible artist, it is my _duty_ to do things exactly as I feel them and to abide by them, risking criticisms and cavillings of every kind. I must be _myself_ for better and for worse; this truth, which I feel strongly myself, has been corroborated by the opinions of f.a.n.n.y Kemble, Mr. Sartoris and Mrs. Sartoris, all at different times, and quite spontaneously expressed. In haste.--Your dutiful and affectionate son,

FRED LEIGHTON.

The question naturally arises, considering the sequence of the history of the Orpheus picture, _was_ Leighton _himself_ when he painted "The Triumph of Music"? I have studied his work from the commencement to the close of his artistic career, and this picture remains the unique example, in my opinion, when he was _not_ himself; the only picture which does not carry out the principle he thought of all importance.

It does not evince "sincerity of emotion." The feeling and intention of the work when first conceived had been absolutely sincere; but, when it came to the performance, spontaneity had failed. It seems to have been painted when he was overshadowed by an influence which was alien to his real artistic sense, and is a further proof that Paris was an entirely unsympathetic atmosphere to him. The picture appears to me to be in feeling unreal, stagey--not to say, ridiculous. That Leighton, after the first bitterness of his failure was over, shared somewhat the same view of it is certain; for shortly after the Academy Exhibition of 1856 was over he took it off the stretcher, rolled it up, and consigned it to oblivion during his lifetime in the dark recess of a cellar.

Notes in Mr. Henry Greville's Diary, dated April 24th and Tuesday, May 6th, run as follows:--

LONDON, _April 24_.

Went yesterday to Colnaghi's to see Leighton's picture of "Romeo and Juliet," with which I was much pleased. Colnaghi tells me it is much admired, and said, "Young Leighton will, one day, be a very great man."

_Tuesday, May 6._

A letter from Leighton, in answer to mine preparing him for the failure of his picture in the Exhibition, says: "Whatever I may have felt about my little bankruptcy, there is no fear of its disabling me for work, for if I am impressionable I am also obstinate; and, with G.o.d's will, I will one day stride over the necks of the penny-a-liners, that they may not have the triumph of having bawled me down before I have had time to be heard."

In April Leighton's family left Paris to travel in Switzerland. The following letters to his mother show the spirit in which Leighton met his artistic disaster.

_May 7._

DEAREST MAMMA,--I received your two kind letters in due time, and answer them on the second day you fixed, having in the interval had time to hear about the fate of my picture; but first let me say, dear mamma, that you need never fear my misinterpreting or taking awry any kind advice that your love and solicitude may dictate to you. I am reading as much as ever my eyes will allow--indeed, you are strangely mistaken in thinking I don't see the necessity of reading. I a.s.sure you that it is a perpetual mortification to me to feel how little I know, but I stand unfortunately at such a disadvantage owing to the weakness of my eyes and my unprecedented absence of mind; however, I shall do what I can, and hope for the best.

Dearest Mamma, I did not expect to write a _consolatory_ note to you to inaugurate your journey, but I am sorry to say that I am in that painful position. My picture, which has been exceedingly badly hung, so that one can scarcely see half of it (indeed I believe only the figure of Orpheus), is an _entire failure_; the papers have abused, the public does not care for it, in fact it is a "fiasco." Ruskin (who likes the "Romeo" very much) is disappointed with "Orpheus," tho' he says of course a man like me can't do anything that has not great merits, and that I am to attach no importance to the malicious articles written by venal critics. Now, dearest Mother, look upon this--you and Papa, who takes so affectionate an interest in my welfare--look upon this, as I do, as a fortunate occurrence; consider what an edge and a zest I get for my future efforts, and what an incentive I have to exert myself to put down the venomous jargon of envious people--next year, tho' the Academicians may think that they have cowed me, I shall very probably not exhibit; but the year after, G.o.d willing, they shall feel the weight of my hand in a way that will surprise them. The more they abuse, the better I'll paint--industry against spite--I will have a pull for it.

Dear Henry Greville behaves to me like an angel; he writes _every day_, and sends me the _Times_ regularly. Mrs.

Sartoris, too, writes very often. You will be glad to hear that my prospects about models are rather brighter than they were; I have found two or three that will be useful.

PARIS, _Sunday_.

Although my letter (and I am afraid a very unpleasant one) must have reached you as soon as the other was fairly out of the house, yet I write a line in answer to all the kind and considerate things you wrote in the idea I might be ill or irritable. I value your kind solicitude, dear Mamma, as much as you can wish, I a.s.sure you, and should indeed be heartily sorry in any way to give you pain or make you in any way unhappy--and talking of that, dear Mamma, I sincerely hope you have completely got over your first annoyance about my fiasco, which, except of course in a pecuniary point of view, is in point of fact a fortunate event for my future progress, in the _elan_ it gives to my application and particularly to my obstinacy. I am very busy now at "Pan" and "Venus," but have not decided what I shall do next year. I think it is very characteristic of the critics that they _none_ of them mention "Romeo and Juliet," which is, I know, universally liked. Dear Mamma, never fear, your boy will walk over all that--depend upon it. How does Papa take it? How the girls?--Give to all my best love, and believe me, your very devoted son,

FRED.

_Tuesday, 1856._

DEAR PAPA,--In the hope that I should receive to-day Ruskin's pamphlet on the Inst.i.tution, I delayed until now answering your kind letter. It has, however, not arrived, and as there is great uncertainty whether it really is already published or no, I think it better not to keep you longer without news from me. The criticisms in the papers are, as far as I can judge, partly from the little I have read and partly from what my friends tell me, singularly injudicious, leaving almost entirely untouched the really vulnerable parts of the picture, and attacking almost exclusively that which is least objectionable--the execution.

Ruskin does not much like the picture, and prefers the "Romeo"

considerably, but he will write of course in a serious spirit and like an intelligent man. I have just made the acquaintance of Robert Fleury--the best French colourist, in my opinion--and he received me with the greatest kindness and simplicity, showing all that he had, and explaining anything that I wished to know; this is a valuable acquaintance which I owe to Montfort. I have made the acquaintance of a highly talented young German genre painter of whom I had heard in Frankfurt; he is my age, and paints with greater facility, but my talent is of a higher order I think. Ary Scheffer has been very amiable and pleasant to me about my fiasco, telling me what he went through himself, and telling me to think nothing of it. I sent to Wild shortly after you left, and was able to render him a little service in the way of some Venetian costumes, still I hesitate to ask him to introduce me to Paul Delaroche. We shall see about all that next autumn when I come back from Italy, when the Viardots will also introduce me to Delacroix.

Pan and Venus are progressing _tout doucement_.

I have written to Watts to ask his leave to put my pictures in his studio (Pan and Venus) in Little Holland House. I read carefully all you said, dear Mamma, about the critics, &c. &c.

I honestly think that my ill-luck is in no way attributable to over-hurrying. Those things in my picture which were really most open to discussion, I did all with my eyes open and deliberately, and they were the only ones that the discerning scribblers seem not to have noticed. Again, with regard to the said critics, I think, dear Mamma, you see things "en noir."

_Who reports_ me to have sneered at ----? I did internally, as I do at all sn.o.bs. However, I have long since banished the whole subject. If ever I attain real excellence, the public will in the long run find it out; and if they don't pay me they will at least acknowledge me, especially when the pre-Raphaelite "engouement" has calmed a little. In a fortnight I shall go to England; by that time Pan and Venus will be done, and I think they promise well. I am very anxious to get to London. I mean to enjoy it very much--take my fill, and then go for a short time to Italy to renew my profession of faith before Raphael and Michael Angelo. I am very glad to hear that you are enjoying yourselves, and that you remember me in the midst of your jonquils and anemones.

FOOTNOTES:

[48] Watts wrote at the time Leighton died that he had enjoyed an uninterrupted friendship with him of forty-five years. This was evidently a slight miscalculation. We read in one of Leighton's letters to his mother from Rome that Watts had called on him, but that he had missed seeing him, and Watts certainly spoke to me of this interview on the pavement of Montagu Square in 1855 as the first he had had with Leighton.

[49] In a letter from his mother, December 22, 1854, she quotes an extract from the _Morning Post_, written by a critic who had been visiting the studios in Rome, and who alludes to Leighton's sympathy with Giotto. It reads to-day as quaint and curiously antiquated as do Knight's scornful criticisms on the Elgin Marbles. Mrs. Leighton writes: "One sentence in your letter has set your dear father on the horns of anxiety. You tell us we are not to expect too much from your pictures, and remind us 'that the path which leads to success, &c. &c.'

Now, Papa fancies that you had underpainted your canvas and were not satisfied with the result, and that was the cause of your writing less hopefully than usual. We have been wishing much to hear what your progress was; knowing the subject of each picture, we should have understood if you had reported progress. In case you are in want of a little encouragement, I must tell you the other day Papa enters the drawing-room with a radiant face. He held in his hand a piece of paper, and requesting my attention, he read me its contents, which I copy for you, and which I found were taken from a column in the _Morning Post_ devoted to criticisms on artists and their works chiefly, I believe, on the Continent, but of that I am not quite sure. 'I next called on Mr.

Leighton, who is employed on a canvas of many feet. His subject is'--then follows the description, after which he adds: 'Mr. Leighton will become a great artist if he advances as he has begun. His drawing is admirable, much better than that of English artists generally. Some of the figures are Giottoish in the treatment of the drapery, which is scarcely pardonable, because drapery fell flowingly about the human body in Giotto's time as well as now. Why imitate the uncomfortable line of that conventional rag? It is, however, unfair to judge of anything beyond drawing and composition in the present state of this picture, which is an extraordinary work for so young a man.' Remarks more or less favourable were made on several other artists, but nothing like what you have just read. Do you know this critic? I need not tell you how highly we appreciate this gentleman's sagacity; but jokes apart, Papa was rather puzzled at such a criticism about the drapery of some of the figures, because you excel in such folds, so it seems to us odd that you should skimp any of your figures. The same column contains observations on the subject of 'High Art' and large historical pictures, or rather comments on those made by young students, such indeed as I have heard you make, that I could almost have fancied the author was answering your remarks. We were rather startled to read in your letter that you find you had better not use the interests of a professional man to facilitate the admission of your picture into the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, but trust to its merits for that result, as we are told the Exhibition in question is, strictly speaking, a private affair for the works of the members only and such as they choose to admit, which explains perhaps the complaints of rejection one has read of from time to time. I hope your picture may be kindly judged and well hung."

[50] On a first visit to Athens I was struck by the extraordinary insignificance and want of beauty in the Levantines of mixed race who crowded the streets; nowhere seemed there a trace left among the inhabitants of the town of the type of Greek beauty. When travelling a few days later to Colonna, while the train stopped at a station on the lower slopes of Hymettus, I saw two men hurrying through the adjacent olive groves to catch it. They were dressed in the Greek costume of the provinces--an embroidered waistcoat cut low leaving the throat bare, the short white plaited skirt, and the heavy cloak falling from one shoulder. Either of these men might have sat to Pheidias for the Theseus. Both were more magnificent in form than any statue ever made.

Doubtless, in the days of her ancient glory, Greece contained a far larger proportion of inhabitants who were beautiful than are to be found now; nevertheless Pheidias without a doubt had to exercise his gift of selecting the best, no less than did Leighton and Watts.

[51] See List of Ill.u.s.trations.

[52] Ibid.

[53] Ibid.

[54] Mr. Herbert Wilson.

[55] The story is that on Leighton's expressing his grat.i.tude at receiving a visit from him (Ary Scheffer), he replied, "If I did not attach considerable importance to your talent, I should not have mounted three flights of stairs to see you."

CHAPTER V