to-day, and have sent her a volume I received this morning from f.a.n.n.y Kemble. The letter would interest you, but is too bulky to send. She speaks of you in a way that pleases me and would gratify your vanity in every respect, and describes you as one of the most interesting people she ever met, and hopes that your art may be an unceasing source of fame, profit, and delight to you. I will keep the letter and show it to you when I have the happiness of seeing you, my dear Fay. When Sarah leaves her she is to begin reading in the West, and I suspect that will answer better to her than the girl's society! Dear Fay, my sister writes to me that she and Brackley went into Manchester to see your pictures. I will transcribe what she says: "They are pretty well placed, but the 'Romeo' is so dark a picture it is difficult to see, and the lighting of the gallery has something of the defect of that at B. House. The 'Pan' and 'Venus' seem to me to be very good pictures. _B.

considers them improper._ I like the 'Pan' the best. There are not many good pictures in the Exhibition." To this I replied that I was much diverted by Brackley's prudishness, but that if such personages were to be painted, it was not possible to clothe them in crinoline or in green gauze drawers such as Bomba imposed upon his Ballerina. It makes me so sick, all that cant about impropriety, but there is so much of it as to make the sale of "nude figures" very improbable, and therefore I hope you will turn your thoughts entirely to well-covered limbs, and paint no more _Venuses_ for some time to come. I trust you will devote all your energies to the Romeo, Dalilah and Syren, and if you have any spare time, that you will do our Friar Lawrence. I forget if I told you that Miss Kaye saw your portrait of yourself, and says it is quite a _libel_ on your physiognomy. Why _did_ you make yourself so pinched and sad-looking, Fay?

_September 12._--Your letter from Venice of 5th reached me this morning. I feel sure you will not have got my long letter directed there on the 5th and enclosing Phipps' answer, so I had better transcribe it: "It would be very desirable that Mr. L. should run over from Paris when there to see exactly what is the damage done to his picture, and I will have nothing done to it in the meantime, but care shall be taken that the injury shall not be increased. Mr. L. does not state in his letter where an answer would reach him, and if you are in communication with him perhaps you would have the kindness to mention to him what Her Majesty's wishes on this subject are." So, you see, my dear boy, you _must_ come, and perhaps it may not be time so wasted, as I shall try and find out when the Queen comes back from Scotland, so that if possible you may time your arrival accordingly. The P. of Wales is going to see the manufactories at Manchester, and they are going to ask him to Worsley, I believe. Only fancy those brutes at Warnford never sending me Adelaide's letter written to me the morning of her hastening off to Ireland a week ago until to-day! Too bad. She wrote in great distress of mind and evidently hardly expected to find Edward[63] alive, as she did not believe the telegraph which said he was better, thinking that if it were so they would not have sent for her.

You dear boy, I am so glad you enjoy your Venice--which is all very pretty no doubt, but I hate stinks and fleas--and they abound there. I hate wobbling in a boat and walking in dirty alleys, so I don't envy you at all. Have you fallen in with either of the new married couples, Wilson or Leslie? Fay, it is well you should come and see me, for I don't think there is much chance of my going to Paris. The Hollands are going to Naples, as the wall of their house at Paris has been damaged by the pulling down of the next house and has to be rebuilt, and I shall have no money to pay for lodging and food. There are long lists of the pictures the Queen and others are to send to the great Manchester Exhibition next year--I think twenty at least from the Royal Galleries, and Ellesmere sends eight or ten. I see that Eastlake is at Rome, so you may fall in with him there. I conclude my next letter must be directed there. You should recollect to give your address _d'avance_.

The second post has just brought me the enclosed, which, as she says she don't write to you, I send (though it will cost a fortune), knowing that it will gladden your eyes to see her hand. She loves you dearly as I do, Fay! Your Meran letters are very pretty, and I wish I could see that place. Good-bye, and G.o.d bless you. We have lovely weather--not one bad day since I have been here. Go and see the Villa Salviate. What have you done with Steinle--what heard of Gamba? Love.--Your old loving father,

H.

Enclosed is one from Mrs. Sartoris to Mr. Greville, which he sends on to Leighton.

MUCKROSS, KILLARNEY.

Many thanks. I got a letter too this morning, which I send you with your own--let me have mine back. E. (Edward Sartoris) is certainly a little better, thank G.o.d--still in bed though. He hopes perhaps to get off next Sat.u.r.day--this appears to me nothing short of impossible--Monday I should think the very soonest for such a move. This place is divinely beautiful, I see, but I go out very little, and what with the shock I received before starting, and the fatigue of my rapid journey, and the anxiety about him, I feel incapable of receiving any _impression_ from the place. I seem to acknowledge its beauty, but I cannot get even a momentary enjoyment out of it at present. The _hosts_ are very kind. Herbert always was an excellent fellow. I cannot write to Fay, for with all the delay caused by his letter having had to follow me here, my answer would no longer catch him at Venice, and I do not know where he next pitches his tent. Dear boy! he seems very happy--G.o.d bless him and keep him so!

MUCKROSS, _Tuesday, 9th_.

HATCHFORD, _September 22_.

DEAREST FAY,--The enclosed reached me to-day having first been sent to Ebury Street.[64] I think it best to send it to you that you may reflect on what you will do, though it seems to me that with the exception of the "Cimabue" you have _no_ picture you could send to this Exhibition. If you wish to be represented by that work, I conclude you would have to ask permission of the Queen to send it there, and this should be done through "The Honourable Colonel Phipps," or Mr. Harrison, his secretary. This permission would of course be granted at once. When Charles told me in my bed this morning that a letter had come for you from Manchester, I fondly hoped it was to announce sale of one or other of your pictures! I wrote yesterday, and have nothing more to say to-day but that I am better, though still seedy. We have got the equinoctial gales with rain. I fancy we, France and England, are going to recall our missions from Naples, if Bomba don't give in, and send squadrons of ships. But what then? I don't suppose we mean to bombard the town. But he will do _just enough_ to give us a pretence for holding our hand, and matters will then resume their ordinary course, and the K. of the two Sicilies be governed just as it was before. Our position is a very ticklish one in this affair. I long to hear whether you saw Pasta--and anything more than the waddle, the red face and beard. Mind and answer my questions. I should tell you that amongst your papers that came from Manchester they sent P.

Albert's letter to Ellesmere, and the long prospectus too, but there is no use in forwarding it to you--this will already cost a fortune, but I think it best to send it. When is it you expect to be here? How long do you stay at home?--Addio, carissimo,

H.G.

LONDON, _September 29_.

MY DEAREST FAY,--Here I am, sleeping in London on my way to Worsley to-morrow morning, and I have got my Mere Augusta occupying your room; the first _female_ I have ever housed or fed, and it will be a rehearsal for Sister Ad. I have just missed her, as she went to the station as I left it, but I found a letter from her just returned from putting the boy to school; it is a bore that I missed her, as I shall not see her for an age. Edward has been committing all sorts of follies and is again confined to his room, but is better. He ought to come to London and consult a clever man, or he will be very ill, as he was once before. What a fellow you are never to say a word about Pasta to me! Of course Mrs. Siddons had a magnificent eye and brow--who said she had not?--and was a glorious actress, but I should always have preferred Reston.

What did Pasta say of _her_? You are wrong about P. not being _powerful_--she was _tremendous_; her voice was one of immense power--almost coa.r.s.e at times, but prodigious, and her _gestes_ sublime from grace and strength. Dear Fay, I have measured the frame; it is twelve inches wide and fourteen long. Now do find me a pretty cheap croute. I have seen no one in London but Lady Shelburne, who said there was no news. She disapproves, like me, of the policy with regard to Naples, and I think we shall find by-and-by a great reaction _la dessus_.

By-the-bye, when at Rome go and hear the opera Verdi has been composing for that place on the story of Adrienne, and tell me all about it. He wrote formerly such pretty melodies, and is a clever fellow. I don't know what Adelaide will do about going to Germany, but I hope give it up, as for many reasons it appears to me at this moment to be a foolish scheme.

Good-night, you dear boy. I can't frank this, as it is late, and I don't know how, so you must pay this time. Write soon, and _answer_ my letters.

I don't quite understand what it is you are doing in Italy except amuse yourself. Is there any other ----? How long will it be before I see you?--Addio, caro caro, tanto tanto,

H.

On the death of Lady Ellesmere, his sister, in answer to Leighton's letter of sympathy Mr. Greville writes--

HATCHFORD, _Wednesday_.

MY DEAREST FAY,--In my affliction, I have one consolation--and it is such events as these that prove it--I am rich in friends, more so, much more than I deserve--and amongst them there is no one whose unselfish love I prize more than yours.

Dear Fay, I _know_ you feel for me, and I am grateful.

G.o.d bless you for it.--Your affectionate

H.

A short note to his father from Leighton announces the death of this dear friend in December 1872.

ATHENaeUM CLUB, PALL MALL, S.W., _Friday_.

MY DEAR PAPA,--I lost last night one of my oldest and dearest friends--Henry Greville; he died without much suffering, and looks this morning calm and beautiful in his rest. You know what I lose in him.--Your affectionate son,

FRED.

Among many letters of the kind, preciously preserved by those who owe much to Leighton, the following notes, addressed to his young friend "Johnny" (Mr. John Hanson Walker), may be found interesting as exemplifying the trouble which Leighton would take in helping young artists, and with what kindness, sincerity, and delicacy he tendered his advice and a.s.sistance. None of these letters are dated.

THE ATHENaeUM.

MY DEAR JOHNNY,--I write one line in haste to say how sorry I am to hear that your health has been unsatisfactory of late. I earnestly trust you won't disregard your doctor's advice, and that you will, _at any sacrifice_, do something to recover strength, even though a long sea voyage were necessary. Health is the _first_ thing. Talk it over with Miss Nan; if her love is as sincere as you believe, and I don't for a moment doubt it, she will give you the same advice.

For myself, I begin to think my studio will never be ready. I have not done a stroke of work. I _hope_ at the end of next week I shall be at it again.

In October I am off to Rome.--Yours sincerely,

FRED LEIGHTON.

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, ADDISON ROAD, KENSINGTON.

ATHENaeUM CLUB, PALL MALL, S.W.

Supposing a proper price were given, should you care to copy (for a man of position) a portrait by Sir William Beechey and one or two by Sir Thomas Lawrence? I am not asking you to do it for a moment, I merely want to know whether you would _care_ to do the work; _if_ so, please let me know what you would ask.

I have seen Mr. Greville to-day, and he begs me to tell you that the Countess Grey will be glad if you can undertake for her, for the sum of _10_, a copy of a portrait of Lady Charlotte Greville. The picture is now with the Countess of Ellesmere, Mr. Greville's sister, and shall be sent to you wherever you wish, if you will let me know at once. Is it to go to Great Castle Street? Lady Ellesmere will be extremely obliged if you will not keep the picture a moment longer than you absolutely require it to make a good copy; the portrait is that of her mother, and she is extremely loth to part with it, even for a time. Please send me a line in answer to this, and believe me always.

_Thursday._

The picture will be duly sent to you.

I have another matter for your consideration: Mr. Greville wants to know if you can think of any good picture (Sir Joshua or Gainsborough would be best) that would make a good companion to the one he has already bought of you; if you could suggest anything suitable, he would give you the commission. I am very glad you should have encouragement, but I trust you will not flag in your zeal about more important studies.

I send you the money from Mr. Greville for the portrait of his mother. I am very glad you should have this new commission, but you must thank _him, not me_, for it was entirely his idea and desire. He is indeed one of the kindest and best men possible. I look on him myself as a second father.

To save time, I shall make arrangements for you to work in my studio on the _4 first_ days of January, if you can manage it.

I shall be out of town, and you will have the place all to yourself.

I wish you a happy Xmas and New Year, and remain.

WARNFORD COURT, BISHOPS WALTHAM.

You will forgive me, I am sure, for not writing to you to thank you for your letter, received some weeks back; but the fact is I have been so very busy as to make writing a matter of very great difficulty. I heard from your father not long ago that you have been very fortunate in getting capital commissions for portraits where you have been staying. I am very glad indeed to hear it, and trust sincerely that you feel you are progressing as steadily in proficiency as in prosperity. To the commissions you have had in the country, I have one to add here. Mr. Henry Greville wishes you to paint for him a copy of a head of a relation of his--I believe, of poor Lady Ellesmere, his sister, whose recent death has been such a terrible grief to him. You will, I am sure, be glad to undertake this painting, even though it may not in itself be very interesting. The size is a sort of oval kit-cat, not large. He proposes to offer you ten pounds for it.