| 82 |
Some time before his interview with Coleridge, in 1798, Mr. Hazlitt had, to his father’s great sorrow, relinquished all idea of the ministry. I do not think that for several years he had any fixed notion in his mind as to settlement in life; he went on, week after week, and month after month, thinking and reading. And this was his existence, these were his happiest days.
I trace him very little indeed between 1798 and 1802, except that he was at this time a reader of Coleridge’s articles in the Morning Post, and that upon some of them which appeared in February, 1800, and a few conversations which took place with the writer afterwards, he based a pamphlet published by him in 1806.
The next that we hear of him is that he has resolved, under his brother John’s encouragement and recommendation, to become an artist; and is going to Paris to study at the Louvre, after a preliminary induction into the rudiments of painting by John.
| FIRST ATTEMPT AT SETTLEMENT IN LIFE. | 83 |
The latter had been hard at work all these years—from 1788 to 1802; his practice was rapidly increasing, and his name punctually made its appearance among the annual exhibitors at the Academy. He had moved from Holborn to 65, Margaret Street, Cavendish Square, in 1789; in 1790 he was at 139, Long Acre; and here he remained till 1795, when he went to 6, Suffolk Street, Middlesex Hospital. But in 1802 his residence was No. 12, Rathbone Place, where in fact he had been since 1799. In this year the Academy accepted and hung his portraits of Mr. Coleridge and of Mrs. Hazlitt, his mother.
I apprehend, and I am sorry that I can do nothing better, that my grandfather resided under his brother’s roof for a certain term preparatorily to his visit abroad. It was now that he first saw Holcroft and Northcote, with both of whom his brother was intimate. The first gave him a letter to Mr. Merrimee, and the latter accepted his proposal to make some copies for him at the Louvre, “as well as he could.” So through his brother, and by his own force of character besides, his circle began now to widen, and to include a few names distinguished in literature and art.
I should have liked to feel myself touching ground of a more solid
description just here; but it cannot be helped. I have only to observe that my
grandfather’s visit to Burleigh, about 1795, was probably the earliest occasion on
which he had an opportunity of seeing any specimens of the great masters; and that the
powerful bent communicated to his mind and taste in this direc-
| 84 | JOURNEY TO PARIS. |
Let us return to firm land. He left England, with some excellent introductions, in the middle of October, 1802, and proceeded by Calais. He says:—
“Calais was peopled with novelty and delight. The confused, busy murmur of the place was like oil and wine poured into my ears; nor did the mariners’ hymn, which was sung from the top of an old crazy vessel in the harbour, as the sun went down, send an alien sound into my soul. I only breathed the air of general humanity.”
He arrived at Paris on the 15th of the month, and put up at the Hôtel Coq Heron. Of his doings while here on this, to him delightful, errand, he is his own best and indeed only historian, as in so many other cases:—
“My first initiation in the mysteries of the art was at the Orleans Gallery: it was there I formed my taste. . . . . I was staggered when I saw the works there collected, and looked at them with wondering and with longing eyes. A mist passed away from my sight: the scales fell off. . . . . .
“This was the more remarkable, as it was but a short time before
that I was not only totally ignorant of, but insensible to, the beauties of art. As an
instance, I remember that one afternoon I was reading the ‘Provoked Husband’ with the highest relish,
with a green woody landscape of Ruysdael or
Hobbima just before me, at which I looked
off the book now and then, and wondered what there could be in that sort of work to
satisfy or de-
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 85 |
“I had made some progress in painting when I went to the Louvre to study, and I never did anything afterwards. I shall never forget conning over the catalogue, which a friend lent me just before I set out. The pictures, the names of the painters, seemed to relish in the mouth. . . . .
“The first day I got there I was kept for some time in the French Exhibition-room, and thought I should not be able to get a sight of the old masters. I just caught a peep at them through the door. . . . At last, by much importunity, I was admitted, and lost not an instant in making use of my new privilege—it was un beau jour to me.”
Then we come to the correspondence which he opened with his father, and of which these letters are the sole remaining portion. They throw a light upon his character and upon his life which we should seek elsewhere in vain. Of his father’s letters to him there is no longer the slightest trace:—
“I arrived here yesterday. . . . Calais is a miserable
place in itself, but the remains of the fortifi-
| 86 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 87 |
“I have begun to copy one of Titian’s portraits. . . . . I made a very complete sketch of the head in about three hours, and have been working upon it longer this morning; I hope to finish it next week. To-morrow and Saturday I can do nothing to it;
* Of Liverpool. |
| 88 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
* Which he did. It is still in the possession »f the family, † The same observation applies to this. |
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 89 |
“With my love to my mother, John, and Peggy, I am your affectionate son,
“I saw Bonaparte.”
| 90 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
“A fortnight ago to-morrow I began a copy of a picture I had not seen before—the subject of which is described in the catalogue in this manner—‘852, by Lodovic Lana, born at Modena, in 1597; died in 1646. The death of Clorinda*—Clorinda, having been mortally wounded in battle by Tancred, is seen lying at the foot of a tree, her bosom bare, discovering the place where she was wounded. On the point of expiring she desires to receive the baptismal sacrament; and while Tancred administers it to her with the water he has brought in his helmet from a neighbouring spring, she holds out her hand to him, in token of forgiveness, and breathes her last.’ It is, in my mind, the sweetest picture in the place. My canvas is not so large as the other, but it includes both the figures, which are of the size of life. I have worked upon it forty hours, that is seven mornings, and am going over the whole of it again this week, by the end of which I intend to have it finished. I propose to complete the copy of Titian, which I began the week following, in five weeks from the time I got here. The three heads, which I shall then have to do, I shall, I think, be able to do in the same time, allowing three weeks for another portrait by Titian, and a head of Christ crowned with thorns, by Guido, and two more for Titian’s Mistress, in which the neck and arms are seen. I shall then, if I have time, do a copy of the Cardinal Bentivoglio, which is at present exhibited in the great
* He finished this task, and the picture is still in the family. |
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 91 |
“I received your letter on Sunday. I wrote to you that
day fortnight; I am, therefore, sorry that you did not receive my letter
sooner. I there gave you an account of what pictures I had been doing, and of
what I intended to do. The copy of the Death of
Clorinda is as good as finished, though I shall have to go over the
most of it again when it is quite dry. The copy of Titian is also brought forward as much as it could be till it
is dry; for, as the room is not kept very warm, the pictures do not dry fast
enough to be done out and out. I have been working upon the portrait of
Titian’s Mistress, as it is called, these two
last days. I intend to complete this the beginning of next week, if possible;
the rest of that week and the two following I shall devote to going over and
completing the other two. If I succeed in this, which I am pretty confident of
doing,
| 92 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
“I would have written a longer letter if I had had time.”
|
* His cousin, on his mother’s side. |
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 93 |
“I yesterday morning completed my copy of the picture
called The Death of Clorinda; I have been, in all,
fifteen mornings about it. It is a very good copy; when I say this, I mean that
it has very nearly all the effect of the picture, and will certainly make as
great a figure in Railton’s
parlour as the original does in the Louvre. It has been praised by some of the
French painters. They have begun of late to compliment me on my style of
getting on; though, at first, they were disposed to be very impertinent. This
is the way of the world; you are always sure of getting encouragement when you
do not want it. After I had done my picture yesterday, I took a small canvas,
which I had in the place, and began a sketch of a head in one of the large
historical pictures, being very doubtful if I could; not at all expecting to
finish it, but merely to pass away the time: however, in a couple of hours, I
made a very fair copy, which I intend to let remain as it is. It is a side
face, a good deal like yours, which was one reason of my doing it so rapidly. I
got on in such a rapid style, that an Englishman, who had a party with him,
came up, and told me, in French, that I was doing very well. Upon my answering
him in English he seemed surprised, and said, ‘Upon my word, sir, you
get on with great spirit and boldness; you do us great credit, I am
sure.’ He afterwards returned; and after asking how long I had
been about it, said he was the more satisfied with his judgment, as he did not
know I was a country-
| 94 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
| LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. | 95 |
“I finished, as far as I intend, the copy of Hippolito de Medici, for Northcote, the day after I wrote to him; and the day following
I began a copy of a part of the Transfiguration, by
Raphael, which had not been
exhibited in the common or large room till the week before. I have nearly done
the head of the boy, who is supposed to see Christ in his Ascension from the
Mount, and who is the principal figure in the piece. I shall paint it in
another morning. It is the best copy I have done, though I have been only
fifteen hours about it. There will be two other figures included in the canvas;
this is 4 feet 8 in. high, and 10 feet 8 in. in breadth. You will easily get a
distinct idea of the size of the picture by measuring it on the parlour floor.
Northcote’s copy, and that of the Death of Clorinda, are the same size. The
Transfiguration itself is about three times as high, and three times as wide.
It is by no means the
| 96 | LETTERS FROM THE LOUVRE. |
Mr. Hazlitt remained altogether four months in Paris studying, and during that time he made many copies and sketches. His Hippolito de Medici and a Young Nobleman with a Glove, both from Titian, and the Death of Clorinda, by Lana, are in the possession of the family; but the others which he executed were, of course, dispersed among those for whom he was commissioned, or their representatives.
He never ceased to look back fondly and regretfully at this epoch in his career. It was one long “beau jour” to him. His allusions to it are constant. He returned to England in January, 1803, with formed tastes and predilections, very few of which he afterwards modified, much less forsook.
In the essay on the ‘Portrait of an English Lady,’ by Vandyke, he says:—
“I have in this essay mentioned one or two of the portraits in
the Louvre that I like best. The two landscapes which I should most covet, are the one
with a rainbow, by Rubens, and the Adam and Eve
in Paradise, by Poussin. . . . . I should be
contented with these four or five pictures, the Lady, by Vandyke, the Titian
| RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LOUVRE. | 97 |
“My taste in pictures is, I believe, very different from that of rich and princely collectors. I would not give twopence for the whole gallery at Fonthill. I should like to have a few pictures hung round the room, that speak to me with well-known looks, that touch some string of memory—not a number of varnished, smooth, glittering gewgaws. The taste of the great in pictures is singular, but not unaccountable. The King is said to prefer the Dutch to the Italian school of painting. . . . . .”
He also returned home with some very decided impressions of the French character, which accompanied him through life.
He says:—“You see a Frenchman in the Louvre copying the finest
pictures, standing on one leg, with his hat on; or after copying a Raphael, thinking David much finer, more truly one of themselves, more a combination of
the Greek sculptor and the French posture-master. Even if a French artist fails, he is
not disconcerted; there is something else he excels in: if he cannot paint, he can
dance! If an Englishman, God save the mark! fails in anything, he thinks he can do
nothing. Enraged at the mention of his ability to do anything else, and at any
consolation offered him, he
| 98 | RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LOUVRE. |
| RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LOUVRE. | 99 |
“A French gentleman formerly asked me what I thought of a
landscape in their Exhibition. I said I thought it too clear. He made answer that he
should have conceived that to be impossible. I replied, that what I meant was, that the
parts of the several objects were made out with too nearly equal distinctness all over
the picture; that the leaves of the trees in shadow were as distinct as those in light,
the branches of trees at a distance as plain as of those near. The perspective arose
only from the diminution of objects, and there was no interposition of air. I said one
could
| 100 | EARLY PAINTING DAYS RECALLED. |
“I myself have heard Charles Fox engaged in familiar conversation. It was in the Louvre. He was describing the pictures to two persons that were with him. He spoke rapidly, but very unaffectedly. I remember his saying—‘All these blues and greens and reds are the Guercinos; you may know them by the colours.’ He set Opie right as to Domenichino’s Saint Jerome. ‘You will find,’ he said, ‘though you may not be struck with it at first, that there is a great deal of truth and good sense in that picture.’
“I remember being once driven by a shower of rain into a picture-dealer’s shop in Oxford Street, where there stood on the floor a copy of Gainsborough’s Shepherd boy, with the thunder-storm coming on. What a truth and beauty were there! He stands with his hands clasped, looking up with a mixture of timidity and resignation, eyeing a magpie chattering over his head, while the wind is rustling in the branches. It was like a vision breathed on the canvas. [From that day dated Mr. Hazlitt’s fondness for Gainsborough.]
|
* See ante, pp. 83, 87, 89. |
| EARLY PAINTING DAYS RECALLED. | 101 |
“I confess I never liked W[estal]l. It was one of the errors of my youth that I did not think him equal to Raphael and Rubens united, as Payne Knight contended; and I have fought many a battle with numbers (if not odds) against me on that point.”
Mr. Hazlitt thought it was no satisfaction, but rather a double annoyance, to witness a change of opinion on this subject. It was no consolation to him, he said, that an individual was overrated by the folly of the public formerly, and that he suffered from their injustice and fickleness at present. He instanced the case of the Rev. Edward Irving, who had risen into public favour so suddenly, and then fallen from it with equal suddenness.
“I never, in the whole course of my life, heard one artist speak in hearty praise of another. . . . I once knew a very remarkable instance of this. A friend of mine had written a criticism of an exhibition. In this were mentioned, in terms of the highest praise, the works of two brothers; sufficiently so, indeed, to have satisfied, one would have thought, the most insatiate. I was going down into the country to the place where these two brothers lived, and I was asked to be the bearer of the work in which the critique appeared. I was so, and sent a copy to each of them.
“Some days afterwards I called on one of them, who began to
speak of the review of his pictures. He expressed some thanks for what was said of
them, but complained that the writer of it had fallen into a very common error—under
which he had often suffered—the
| 102 | AN ANECDOTE. |
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