Chapter V: Leighton as President of the Royal Academy (3)

Knowing of old the views you entertain, and the radical
divergence which exists between them and my own, I had fully
anticipated the spirit of your answer; in fact, it almost seemed
to me when I wrote at some length the other day that I ought to
explain that it was out of deference to your wish and in high
appreciation of the long and earnest thought which you have
given to a grave subject that I did so, rather than in the hope
that my views would carry conviction or commend themselves to
you.

The divergence between us is, as I said, at the root of things,
and is one on which I do not think experience either qualifies
or disqualifies us to judge. The question is not what effect
pictures may have had on certain people, but what the _proper_
function of Art is. The question is theoretic rather than
practical. _If_ the primary function of Art is definitely
didactic, _if_ its first duty is to inculcate a specific moral
truth, then, indeed, there is, as you very rightly say, no
neutral ground. Either the teaching is wholesome or it is
mischievous.

Meanwhile, our brief correspondence only throws into stronger
light the impossibility to which I believe I alluded in my first
letter, of dealing with such a subject within the compass of a
letter, and in broad and sweeping outlines. So, for instance,
when I used instrumental music as a parallel, I did not for a
moment mean to describe its province as being identical with
that of painting. Neither, on the other hand, would you, I
presume, in instancing song on your side wish to be taken too
literally; for you would have, according to your theory, to
excommunicate, let us say, for instance, Schubert, the king of
song-writers, who has played on more varied chords of feeling
and imagination than any other musician of his kind, and of whom
I am not aware that he ever inculcated (I feel pretty certain
that he never meant to inculcate) a definite moral lesson.

But I am beginning again. Let me at once draw rein, and
abandoning a barren, however interesting controversy, remain,
dear Mr. Horsfall, yours sincerely,

FRED LEIGHTON.

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.,
_August 28, 1890_.

DEAR MR. HORSFALL,--Before starting for my holiday, of which I
stand in much need, I write one line to acknowledge and thank
you for your amiable and interesting letter, which shows me, I
am very glad to see, that we are much less divided in opinion
than I should have gathered from what you had previously
written, and indeed printed.

Judgments given as absolute in your letters to the Manchester
press are shown by the commentary which your last letter
furnishes to be in a manner conditional, and without that
commentary your words were rather misleading. I was not
unnaturally a little startled--I, who do not think a "subject"
in the ordinary sense of the word imperative at all--to find you
condemn the purchase of Yeames's "Arthur and Hubert" (which, for
the element of human emotion, certainly satisfies the
Aristotelian demand in reference to tragedy), because the
emotion does not turn on an heroic act; and I may say, in
passing, that I am unable to see how a scene in which deep pity
for the helpless is aroused, can be justly described as a
"horror which it is foolish to try to realise."

Meanwhile, I fully feel the practical difficulty which your last
letter describes. It is a difficulty of the most perplexing
kind. For it must be evident that whilst with a people of strong
moral fibre and an almost entire absence of aesthetic
sensibility--at all events, on the side of form--you may
indirectly insinuate some perception of the beautiful--of that
essence which lifts us out of ourselves--under the cover and
pretext of a _moral_ emotion--we cannot ignore the danger of
producing the exactly opposite effect of confirming the
dully-strung spectator in the belief that the stirring of that
moral emotion is in fact the _raison d'etre_ of the work. One
is, of course, glad, as the world goes, that the doors of
righteousness should be opened, even by the wrong key; but one
would still more desire that the door which yields only to that
key should not itself remain closed.

Pray do not take the trouble to acknowledge these parting words:
but believe me, very truly yours,

FRED LEIGHTON.

With regard to Leighton's acute artistic sense of fitness when it was a matter of chosing a site for buildings or monuments, so that such placing should give them their full value of effect, I remember, after a site had been decided on for Cleopatra's Needle in London, Leighton vehemently denouncing the idea of placing it where it now stands. The conversation we had respecting it was recalled by finding the following letter:--

DEAR SIR,--It is a source of regret to me that I am unable to be
present as a listener at the discussion to-morrow. Meanwhile the
question of the base, though a very important one, is in my mind
very secondary to that of the site, and the (in my poor opinion)
radical wrongness of the present selection much mars my interest
in the whole affair. A monument which, intended to be
conspicuous, is not the _focus_ of the avenues that lead to it,
I think against the most primary perceptions of effect. Two
magnificent avenues give access to Cleopatra's Needle, the
finest river and the finest embankment in Europe; _both of these
run past it_ as if they had forgotten it. I may add that what
would only have been feeble is rendered worse than feeble by the
(of course accidental) semblance of matching with the short
tower over the way.

Pray excuse the great haste in which I write and the consequent
abruptness of my expressions, and believe me, yours very truly,

FRED LEIGHTON.

Mr. J. Goodall, in his Reminiscences, says: "Many years before it was removed from Egypt I used to see it lying on the seashore near Alexandria. I agree with Lord Leighton's opinion that it was not erected on a suitable site. It is a pity it was not put up in front of the British Museum."

Leighton, needless to say, took infinite interest in Sir Henry Tate's splendid scheme for memorialising the success of a commercial life, by presenting to his nation a gallery in which the best British works of art might find a home, and, moreover, by the gift to the public of the nucleus of such a collection. It was truly amazing to see the amount of time and trouble which Leighton devoted to this scheme, considering how full to overflowing his life already appeared to be. But, whether it was a question of a splendid enterprise, or a struggling artist of whom the world had never heard, or even an earnest amateur, once his sense aroused that he could be of help, Leighton manufactured time somehow to give that help.[78] But the high-minded, public-spirited view Sir Henry Tate took of the responsibilities of wealth specially enlisted Leighton's sympathies, and he evinced an intense interest in helping to work out the great idea.

Another matter which concerned him very seriously was the fact that a work by the greatest sculptor England can claim--Alfred Stevens--purporting to memorialise our great warrior, the Duke of Wellington, was allowed to remain unfinished and shunted away in a side chapel of St. Paul's Cathedral, instead of being completed and placed in the position for which it was designed. The following letters to Mr. Henry Wells show that in 1888 Leighton had induced others to view the matter in the same light:--

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD,
_August 12, 1888_.

DEAR WELLS,--The list for the Memorial Committee is practically
complete, and though it is not in every particular the list
which you or I might have drawn up, it is a good one, and as I
told you I think in a previous note, I have not liked to
interfere too much, as Agnew has so zealously taken the work on
himself. I meant to send you the list, but have cleverly come
away from home (I am writing at the Senior United Service Club)
without it. I have of course asked Agnew to add his own name;
for the Academy I have proposed to him the four Trustees--not as
Trustees, but because they offer a ready-made group in a body
where none is afore or after--Sir J. Gilbert, Linton, and Coutts
Lindsay will complete the artistic section for the present. The
next step, as I have suggested to Agnew, is to get at the Dean
of St. Paul's--this I have offered to do. A chairman will have
to be appointed; I should suggest, or rather have suggested, the
D. of Cleveland--if he joins; I believe his answer has not yet
come in. And there must be a banker: then a letter from the
Committee should appear in the _Times_ inviting adhesions and
subscriptions, to be published from time to time: is all this in
harmony with your own view? Are you not afraid that the moment
when "everybody" (for _our_ purposes it _is_ everybody) is
leaving town or has left it--I go myself in a few days--is a
very bad one? Many people lose sight of their _Times_, or would
not write from the country or foreign parts. How would it strike
you to wait a month or two, having now laid the foundation? It
is a nice point. There are pros, but there are also cons. With
all good wishes, yours sincerely,

FRED LEIGHTON.

You have seen no doubt in your _Times_ that we mean to exhibit
our lamented friend's work in a worthy manner.

_P.P.S._--By-the-bye, _S. Kensington_ ought to be represented. I
will ask Agnew to write to T. Armstrong.

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.,
_November 2, 1892_.

DEAR WELLS,--Best thanks for your cheque and kind note. You will
be glad to hear that the removal is going on capitally. I did
not wait for the full money-promise; I had _determined_ to do
the thing, and I set it going on my personal guarantee when we
were L300 short of the full sum. _Now_ we have the money, young
Lehmann munificently sending a cheque _for that amount_.

The great monument having been moved to its right position, the next question was to raise funds for the completion of the work. This was perplexing Leighton during the last weeks of his life. Having written a letter to the _Times_ in 1895, and the donations having come in but scantily, he was puzzled to know what further steps to take.

Leighton himself, so distinguished a sculptor, took a special interest in all efforts to promote the knowledge and love of plastic art. When, therefore, his old friend Mr. Walter Copland Perry called a meeting at Grosvenor House--at which the late Duke of Westminster presided--to lay before it his scheme for the formation of a gallery of casts from all the best Greek and Roman statues, Leighton was one of the most zealous and active promoters of the scheme.[79]

Leighton was commissioned by the Government to execute the medallion for Queen Victoria's Jubilee in 1887. M. Edouard Lanteri, now Professor of Modelling at the South Kensington schools, assisted him in carrying out the design, and became an ardent admirer of the President. M. Lanteri described to me how certain difficulties occurred in the casting. Leighton said they must work on till these were set right--and they _did_ work eighteen hours on end.

All to whom the work of Watts, Burne-Jones, and Rossetti has appealed, owe Leighton a debt of gratitude. Before the Grosvenor Gallery Exhibition of his work took place in 1882, Watts, in talking to me of the unpopularity of the pictures he felt most inspired to paint, would often give as a proof of this that, with one exception, no one had ever cared to engrave his pictures; and truly, without Mr. Fred Hollyer's photographs the general public would have known little of the special value of this work, nor of the art of Rossetti and Burne-Jones. Mr. Hollyer's photographs are not merely copies--they have as art an atmosphere of charm in themselves; they render what may be called the _soul_ of a picture. He writes:--

"About 1875 I received a letter from Baroness ----, requesting
me to call upon her in order to arrange to photograph the
collection of works of art in her country house. She had
employed other photographers, but the results had not been
satisfactory. I carried the matter through, and not only
received a considerable amount in remuneration, but was given
great encouragement to persevere with my work at a time when I
had nearly decided on going to America. The Baroness never
mentioned who it was that had recommended me, and though I had
been constantly working for him during many years, it was not
till six months after his death that I discovered it was Lord
Leighton who had been my good friend. I should be glad to bear
testimony to his great heart and loving kindness, and do regret
not having been able to thank him myself."

Leighton was made a Baronet in 1886. The following letter from Gladstone, written in 1885, refers to Leighton having submitted to him the names of Millais and Watts as artists worthy to receive the honour, at the same time begging him earnestly not to include his own:--

_Private._]
10 DOWNING STREET, WHITEHALL,
_June 17, 1885_.

MY DEAR SIR F. LEIGHTON,--Your letter has given me much
pleasure. I can assure you that I in return highly appreciate
the generous spirit you have shown, and I value the advice you
kindly tendered in this matter of Art Honours. I am reporting
rather fully to Her Majesty on our conversation of Monday, and
on the personal abnegation on your own part, which commands my
cordial respect.--I remain always, very faithfully yours,

W.E. GLADSTONE.

On Watts declining the honour, Leighton was at first much vexed; but Watts, having explained to him the reason which made it inadvisable for him to accept a baronetcy, Leighton fully, as he told my husband and myself, saw the necessity of his declining.

Since the first years when Leighton settled in London he had been favoured by the personal friendship of many members of the Royal family, who very greatly esteemed him. He not only attended the State banquets and entertainments to which he was summoned, but was frequently the guest at receptions of a private and a more intimate character at Marlborough House and elsewhere.

In these pages there is only space to note a few, among the very many directions in which he served the Art interests of his country. In foreign lands, and in the Colonies no less than in England, he extended the knowledge and appreciation of the best English Art by his unwearying exertions; and yet it must always be remembered he ever remained "a workman first, an official after."

Professor Church, appointed in 1879 to the Professorship of Chemistry in the Royal Academy of Arts in London, has preserved letters and notes from Leighton on the subject of pigments.[80] It is almost incredible that his mind could have penetrated with such accuracy into all the details of his craft as fresh questions arose as to the value of new vehicles and colours, considering his endless labours connected with the wider interests of Art, and the absorbing nature of his own work. But there exist over sixty letters, and more than twenty cards, dating from 1880 to November 1895, two months before his death, in which he proves his insistency to master thoroughly every detail of his craft. He wrote: "It is, I feel, rather a duty in me to ascertain about these various new vehicles."

The following extracts may prove of interest and value to painters.[81]

_8th._

DEAR PROF. CHURCH,--I write to acknowledge your letter of the
6th, the information in which (Jaune de Naples) is to me of
very great importance indeed. I believe Hills to be really
anxious to help us in the matter of medium. I should be
peculiarly glad if we could send forth a thoroughly trustworthy,
hard-drying, supple, and not yellowing vehicle. Let us consider
it. I find myself using a mixture, roughly, of equal parts of
amber varnish (Roberson's) and oil of spike; and, say, a sixth
of the whole of poppy oil (Roberson's): that is, 3/7 amber, 3/7
spike, 1/7 poppy; but I vary according to the work; and again I
don't know what Roberson's amber varnish is, it does not seem
_very_ drying. Of course one would want a good middle drying
power, to which, _mixing the ingredients_, one might add any one
at will. I think that "Siccatif de Haarlem" has about that
middle quality, if I remember it rightly. It is, I think, copal,
poppy oil, and turps.; but it seemed to me to yellow a little,
why, I don't know; poppy should not darken. Chromophile is
delightful up to a certain point, and then the work sinks
extraordinarily blind and tallowy; and as you want something in
the way of varnish at the end, it seems desirable to carry that
or _some_ varnish in a moderate degree right through. Chromoph.
becomes a little _milky_ in a bottle with spir. of turp., and
turns bright green when left in a dipper.

Your proposal to _report_ to us annually is very valuable, and
could be worked to the _general_ advantage.

* * * * *

I am delighted to find that you are in co-operation with my
friend Mr. Hills, who has a warm and genuine desire to serve Art
and his friends the artists. I find his poppy oil _clarified
with charcoal_ very delightful stuff. Am I wrong in thinking the
action of the charcoal on it has been to render it more
_drying_? I think that a vehicle made with that oil, amber
varnish, and oil of spike will be a very satisfactory vehicle
indeed; particularly if you can, between you, _bleach_ the oil
yet more. Chromophile is quite colourless. The mastic varnish
_that won't bloom_ will be a great triumph. _Pace_ our
detractors, it shall, I hope, be seen in time that the R.A. is
not unmindful of the needs of artists even in the matter of
material appliances.

* * * * *

I observe that you speak in your valuable manual of Aureolin as
a _very slow-drying_ colour when ground with oil; finding, in
use, that _Roberson's_ Aureolin dries, on the contrary,
extremely quick--it is always absolutely dry the next day, and I
use no vehicle but Bell's Medium, _i.e._ linseed and oil of
spike and turps.--I wrote to ask him what he grinds the colour
in. He answers "_pure linseed oil without the addition of any
drier._" This puzzles me. Where is the solution? Are there
different kinds of Aureolin? When you have a leisure moment send
me a post-card.

* * * * *

Among the madders in your handbook _scarlet_ madder does not
appear; I hope it is not a treacherous colour; I use it freely,
but only mixture with other _dark_ colours, to give them
richness. I also use cadmium _red_; is that wrong? A line on a
post-card will greatly oblige.

_P.S._--Of course I only use cadmium red when I want a _very_
deep orange in drapery or sky--nothing could replace it.

* * * * *

_Feb. 2, 1885._

Here is a little problem: I thought all _burnt_ colours were
_ipso facto_ sound. Roberson tells me that burnt white
(Chremnitz do.), a lovely colour _like ivory_, plays most
amazing tricks, darkens and lightens again in rapid succession.
WHY? When you are in Long Acre make him show you his samples.

* * * * *

Thanks for your letter. I don't use any particular colours other
than those you mentioned in your lectures, although I thought of
trying deep yellow madder again; I used to like it very much. I
suppose you have the list--it is a very long one--of Edouard's
colours. Smith is his agent here (14 Charles Street, Middlesex
Hospital). I use one or two colours (Tadema I think _all_) from
Mommen's in Brussels; his burnt sienna is _superb_. Asphaltum
would reward study; it was _universally_ used by the Venetians,
and seems never to have cracked with them. I am very glad that
you are steadily pursuing your collection of specimens and
experiments, which I hope will by degrees become an exhaustive
one, and of infinite value to the profession. _Grounds_, too,
will deserve much attention.

* * * * *

Kindly tell me whether there is any harm in putting a _thin_
coat of mastic, softened perhaps with a drop or two of oil, over
works _finished quite recently_ but _begun_ a year or more ago?
If I understand rightly, cracking is caused by atmospheric
action through the _back_ of the canvas, by _distension_ of
underlying partially soft paint and, consequent disruption of
the upper, harder layer of varnish. If the first painting is a
year old, is it not tough enough to resist the atmosphere, and
is it not _anyhow_ pretty safe when the canvas is _backed_?

I suppose "Mutrie yellow" is quite safe alone and mixed with
other pigments?

* * * * *

Thanks for your note. Yes, I do like the white oil, but I add
copal to it if I want it to be very drying, or mix copal on the
palette with a slow-drying colour, say a lake. This, I suppose,
is all right; if so, don't trouble to acknowledge this. The oil
of orange is delightful on account of its smell, but dries less
quickly than turpentine (rectfd. spirit). Is it not _always_
better to have _some_ resin in a picture _throughout_ since it
has to be varnished at the end?

* * * * *

_April 21, 1888._

I am so much enamoured with the method, so far as vehicle is
concerned, which I have used during the last year, that I should
like to feel quite certain that it is _absolutely safe_. I use a
"single-primed" canvas, and underpaint with "Bell's medium" and
rect. spir. turps., which, under your advice, I have in _small_
bottles, so that using it freely a bottle lasts a very short
time, and the stuff is therefore always fresh. The mixture I
_use up to the end_ (except when I now and then use the pigment
_alone_), and letting the turps. rather _preponderate_ as I
advance. I have found to my amazement that this mixture dries
even in winter weather excellently, and that I can use with it
even scarlet madder and aureolin, which, at least the former,
hitherto I never attempted to use except stiffened with amber
or copal; and I further find that this mixture, though of course
it "sinks" to some extent (and especially with the blues), in
the main bears up very fairly, incomparably better than I should
have expected, and in fact quite enough. Before beginning to
paint I rub over the part each time with Bell's medium and
saliva nearly equal parts, or say five oil to four saliva beaten
up with the knife on the palette to a white mucilage. This, if
left alone, makes a good varnish, and is delightful to paint
into. So far, so good; at least I suppose so. (Do you see any
elements of danger? cracking? darkening?) But at the end
something must go over it all, if only to lock it up (I
suppose), certainly to get uniform gloss and strength. I propose
in the Academy to put Roberson's medium over the whole of my
large one and to retouch with the same. A portrait on to which I
_don't_ intend to work I should cover with mastic and _a little
poppy oil_; there is no harm in this, I suppose, and the small
quantity of mastic is not likely to yellow, is it? I know this
mixture _won't come off_, but why should it?

* * * * *

_May 30, 1889._

Messrs. Reeves send me a colour in which I delight, but which I
have hitherto always avoided as being unsafe, to wit, indigo. I
suppose one ought not to use it, ought one? although my old
friend, and in some ways my master, Robert Fleury, employed it
extensively in _underpainting_ blue draperies.

* * * * *

_December 23, 1889._

I have got a recipe--a very simple one--from a friend of mine in
Italy, who paints a good deal in distemper, and who in technical
matters is quite the most leery person I ever came across. In
this recipe he mentions what he calls "Gum Damar," which he, in
his characteristic ignorance of spelling (for Italians are not
very strong in orthography), writes with an apostrophe, D'Amar.
Now I presume he means "Gum Dammar" (I believe there is such a
thing, is there not?), but I should like to feel sure. Perhaps
you will kindly enlighten me on a post-card.

The distemper itself is the simplest thing in the world. It is
only a proportion of water and yolk of egg (he deprecates the
use of vinegar), to which he adds a certain number of drops (I
have not the recipe by me) of this gum. Of course it would be
important not to use the wrong gum. Hence the trouble I am
giving you.

* * * * *

_January 27, 1890._

I have just received from Perugia the enclosed sample of Gum
Dammar, which you were kind enough to say that you would report
upon to me. A few drops of this (by-the-bye, I do not know how
it is to be dissolved) and the yolk of an egg stirred in water,
form the distemper used by my friend Mariani.

I don't know whether I told you that he is rather an interesting
fellow. He is one of those extremely dexterous Italian
workmen-artists who know and can work in every material, and
whose forgeries of sixteenth century bric-a-brac, cassoni,
reliefs in pastiglia, &c. &c., have, I am afraid, not
infrequently been purchased as original by very crafty persons.

Several friends of mine who use distemper, and he amongst the
number, tell me that by putting a preparatory coating of
distemper over thoroughly dry oil, you can with perfect safety
interpose a layer of _painting_ in distemper between two
paintings in oil--an extremely valuable thing for us _for
recovering quality_.

* * * * *

_January 31, 1890._

Many thanks for your valuable letter. I have had the information
entered in a little book, where I keep the outpourings of your
wisdom on matters chemical.

Thanks also for the card, in which you give me a somewhat long
name for my Gomme Dammar. I suppose in an appeal to a chemist
the _first_ portion would suffice.

* * * * *

_February 14, 1890._

Many thanks for your valuable note. I may say in passing that
the specimen of "Ruby Madder" sent by Mr. Laurie appears to me
to be inferior in brilliancy to both the Rose Madder and the
Madder Carmine furnished by Messrs. Roberson; and I have no
reason to doubt that the latter colours are perfectly
trustworthy.

It will give me great pleasure to receive the dedication of your
book, which I look forward to seeing with pleasure, and using
with profit.

* * * * *

_May 19, 1890._

Many thanks for your note, which seems to open up an interesting
point. I gather from what you say that the mode of _manufacture_
of a colour may affect its drying properties over a range
extending from drying very slowly to drying very rapidly; and I
shall be much interested in hearing what your experiments lead
to under this head.

* * * * *

_January 30, 1891._

Many thanks for your letter. I see that I had better wait for a
final opinion until the few months have expired which you still
require as tests of permanence. Meanwhile, I am a little unhappy
to see in the case of colour after colour the expression
"semi-permanent." I do not quite know what that means. Let me
know _at your leisure_ whether it means permanent under certain
conditions, and, if so, what; or merely in a general way that
the pigment stands, but only pretty well. The Rosso Saturno I
quite understand is to be set aside.

Another perplexity is in regard to the Burnt Madder. If the
madders are in themselves sound colours, as I have always
understood them to be, how do they lose their permanence by
burning? I should like to use the Gialetto, and I rather gather
from what you say that I may do so. I hear with interest what
you tell me of your new varnish. As for myself, I have got to
dislike the use of any resins in my work to such an extent that
I have completely set them aside. Of course when a picture is
finished it requires some gum, not only to protect it, but to
bring up the colour to its full value. Will you let me know--but
this will do at your leisure, for the time has not come
yet--whether a picture being painted as I paint mine,
exclusively with Bell's medium and turpentine from first to
last, and, I may add, worked on up to the last moment of sending
in, _i.e._ a fortnight later, may on the walls of the Academy be
safely varnished with this new material of yours, either alone
or diluted with a little poppy oil? I look forward with interest
to Heyl's Madder Green.

* * * * *

_December 5, 1891._

I shall certainly try the Heyl's Madder Green, which I hear of
through you for the first time. Laurie's daffodil cadmium is
very pretty. I have got some; but my new delight now is yellow
cobalt, which you have found to be absolutely safe, and which is
absolutely delightful as a colour.

* * * * *

My tempera is come from Italy, and I am told that it is made of
the tails (feelers?) of the cuttle-fish (sepia). Would you like
to look at it again from curiosity? I understand that with the
reservation that it darkens, I may use it with impunity in,
under, and with the oil--that is enough for _my_ purpose.

* * * * *

_October 16, 1894._

Will you kindly advise me on the tempera, of which I send a
tube? It is used by my friend, Prof. Costa, who gave it me; he
likes it vastly. It coalesces _with oil_; he uses it also by
itself _between_ two paintings in oil. I have often longed for
something to keep down the _greasiness_ and _slipperiness_ of
oil paint when correcting or going over a surface often, oil and
water _do_ coalesce sufficiently. The most luminous thing I ever
painted (and it has stood like a rock) was painted (or certainly
_thickly under_painted) with a vehicle made of _starch and oil_.
What _this_ medium is, I don't know. Please advise.

* * * * *

_March 7, 1894._

Forgive secretary again.

I am much obliged by your note, and read with great satisfaction
what you say about Newman's golden ochre. I shall now, until I
hear from you further, adopt the motto "Ex uno disce omnes," and
assume that the _yellow_ ochre is equally sound and serviceable;
although the colour is so much finer than any yellow ochre of my
acquaintance that I cannot quite close my mind to a lurking
suspicion that it is stimulated or refreshed by some foreign
ingredient.

* * * * *

_March 13, 1894._

Many thanks. You send me good tidings. The yellow ochre is by
far the finest I have ever seen.

* * * * *

I enclose, because we think (Watts and I) that it will interest
you, a specimen of purple _lake_ (_not madder_), such as Watts
has used _all his life_, which has been baking in the sun for
_two_ years; it is slightly browner, but more beautiful than
ever, and has, you see, retained its full _body_; this is
remarkable.

* * * * *

_June 22, 1894._

Very many thanks for your interesting and exhaustive
investigations on the French lakes. I observe that in several
cases you mention lakes having _cracked_. I presume, however,
there is no reason to suppose they would do this when embodied
with other colours, and that _if_ otherwise safe they might
therefore be used. The purple lake used by our friend Watts is
furnished to him, I have always understood, by Messrs. Newton of
Rathbone Place. I am glad to hear so good an account of the pale
boiled linseed oil from May & Baker, Ltd., of Battersea. I do
not, however, gather from what you say that there can be any
reason for substituting it for Bell's medium, to which I am much
attached, and which, as you know, is, with the admixture of
one-third rectified essence of turpentine, the only vehicle I
use. This note, of course, requires no acknowledgment--anything
you may have to say on these various points will abundantly keep
until I get a further account of your investigations on the
purple lake.

* * * * *

Many thanks for your valuable caution. Amongst the lakes you
tried, did you include the garance _nuance brun_ and do. _brun
fonce_? Both are superb colours, and it would be nice to think
one might use them. It is very comfortable to feel that one has
a _conscience_ one can tune at Shelsley.

* * * * *

_April 19, 1894._

I am about now to take up a large decorative painting for the
Exchange, a work which cannot be done on the spot on account,
_inter alia_, of the darkness of the place, and will, therefore,
be carried out here at the studio on _canvas_, and then
"maroufle" on the wall. Macbeth (A.R.A.), who is also doing one,
is using _Parris's_ "Marble medium," in which, a thousand years
ago, I painted two figures for mosaic at South Kensington; great
brilliancy is obtainable, but I rather fear a certain tendency
to look waxy and almost shiny. I myself incline to use Gambier
_Parry's_ material, which I have used on the _wall_ at South
Kensington and greatly like. But now the question arises, ought
the canvas to be _prepared_? and on this I shall be grateful for
your opinion, as the matter is very important. G. Parry told me
that canvas either _could_ or _should_ be prepared for his
medium, I don't remember which. Roberson's man tells me that
Madox Brown and Fredk. Shields (I think) both had canvases
prepared for a similar purpose. I shall postpone ordering mine
till I have your instructions; till when, and always, I am, in
much haste.

* * * * *

_April 23, 1894._

Many thanks for your letter. I shall, of course, obey your
instructions punctually, and substitute paraffin wax for the
ordinary Brecknell and Turner beeswax, as prescribed by Parry
himself. I will see Roberson immediately, for I should not think
it right, as he ground the colours and prepared the medium
throughout for my two large frescoes at South Kensington, to
abandon him in favour of Laurie, or anybody else.

You suggest that I should make a little experiment on a small
canvas. Do you think that would be necessary? I presume that the
material will work exactly as it did before, and that the
surface will be--bar the granulation--very much the same as on a
wall. I ask this question, because I ought to get to work
immediately, and I gather from a reference to your work that it
will take several weeks before the process of preparation is
complete.

I wish I could throw light for you on the verb "maroufler," and
should like to know what subterranean connection there is, or
can be, between it and the word "maroufle" which is, as you say,
being interpreted, a "rascal."

At all events, when the moment comes for the operation, I must
endeavour to obtain information from France, where the process
is in very frequent use.

* * * * *

_February 27, 1895._

A contretemps has occurred of which I think I ought to inform
you, as it relates to the very interesting subject of grounds
and pigments.

Robersons, when they came to roll up my fresco to transport it
to the Exchange, found that either the ground or the
pigment--probably both, as they are of the same substance--was
extremely brittle and cracked right across, cracking at a rather
abrupt tangent from the circumference of the circle; so that
they immediately struck work, and declined to go any further.

As far as the painting itself is concerned, I do not believe
that any serious damage is done, because on re-straining it
flat, the cracks are barely perceptible, and probably would not
be at all perceptible in _situ_.

Meanwhile, if any question arises as to the ground, it has
occurred to me, and it is on this point I wish to consult you,
that the cause may be the substitution of paraffin wax for the
ordinary wax hitherto used in Gambier Parry's material, which,
though perhaps not absolutely so durable as paraffin, is
sufficiently so, and very malleable. One does not see what else
could have cracked in that abrupt and sharp manner--certainly
not the copal, which has oil in it and is further made supple by
the oil of spike. If it turned out that the paraffin was the
peccant element, I should be, _entre nous_, rather glad, because
it diminished the facility of the work.

* * * * *

With reference to the cracking of this work Professor Church writes:--

This unrolling was begun in very cold weather; if the
temperature had been a little higher, nothing of this kind would
have taken place. The picture now shows no sign of defect or
injury, and is in perfect condition. By substituting _ceresin_,
a paraffin obtained from ozokerite or earthwax, for crystalline
paraffin, the chance of cracking is obviated. The ceresin, which
should have a melting-point of 150 deg. or 160 deg. Fahrenheit,
constitutes a safe substitute for the beeswax commonly employed
in Gambier Parry's Spirit Fresco Medium.

FOGGIA, _October 15, 1895_.

You will be surprised to get a letter from me with an Italian
superscription; I am writing thus early before my return to save
time. When I was in Venice the other day, Van Haanen spoke to
me, _with approval_, of a certain vehicle, of which I had
already heard before vaguely, the invention of the French
painter, Vibert. You probably know of it, as the subject of
media has occupied you. There are, it appears, three forms of
this medium: the vehicle for painting, the medium for painting
_into_ in retouching, and the final _varnish_. As far as I
understood Van Haanen in a hurried conversation--he was a little
vague--the painting medium contains no gum, only, he seemed to
think, petroleum and oil; I assume that in the final "vernis"
there _is_ gum of some kind.

I am perfectly satisfied with Bell's medium and fresh turpentine
for the very little use I make of vehicle in painting; but there
is always the difficulty of the _final_ varnish in the Academy.
I don't like risking mastic or copal _so soon_ on work which
contains _nothing_ but oil (and if I ever do use a little, I put
poppy oil with it), and the result is that I generally varnish
with Roberson's medium, which is safe, but I fear a little
inclined to _yellow_ in time.

Now what I want you kindly to tell me, my dear Church, is the
exact composition of the _three_ Vibert media, and your opinion
about the safety of using _all three_ in the prescribed order;
and this I should like to know on my return at the _beginning_
of November (hence my haste in writing), and also whether I can
safely use these vehicles on work _begun in my usual medium_.

It is just possible you may not have heard of the Vibert
vehicles; if so, I would ask you to be so kind as to obtain (of
course at _my_ expense) a bottle of each of the mixtures and to
test them carefully.

A line to say this has reached you would find me at the Hotel
Royal Mazzeri, Via 20 Settembre, _Rome_.

With kind regards and anticipated thanks.

* * * * *

HOTEL ROYAL MAZZERI, ROME,
_October 22, 1895_.

Many thanks for your prompt and amiable answer. I shall be
interested to hear on my return the upshot of your analysis; but
I _hate vernis_ in painting, as Bocchini tells us the Venetians
did, _comme la peste_.

I am very glad you are getting on so satisfactorily with your
work on the frescoes.

In haste (for I have many letters before me).

_P.S._--No; I am sorry to say I am no better of my special
ailment though my _general_ condition is good.

* * * * *

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.,
_November 8, 1895_.

Excuse the hand of my secretary.

Many thanks for your note about Vibert's varnishes, which I
shall accordingly dismiss from my mind--the varnishes, I mean,
not your note.

One chapter in which is revealed Leighton's serious inner life closed during the years he was President. The last letter which has been preserved from his beloved master, Steinle, is dated 22nd November 1883, Frankfurt:--

DEAR FRIEND,--Yesterday evening I received your letter from
Florence, and answer at once, partly to tell you how delighted I
am at the result of the consultation with Quarfe, as also at
your comfort and well-being, and partly because this part of
your letter has greatly roused my curiosity for a second, which
shall also tell me something about Vienna, Verona, and Florence.
At the same time, however, I want to make use of a pause in my
work to tell you that the first three coloured contours are
completed. To the painting I dedicated all my small skill, and
would have died in order to secure that the drawing and
composition should produce a life-like effect; I believe also
that these pictures will look like frescoes in their
surroundings.

Some time after this Leighton wrote to Mrs. Pattison the following letter, which proves that to the end he retained his great affection for Eduard von Steinle. This friend and master died in 1886, but whether Leighton made this inquiry before or after that date I do not know, as his letter is not dated:--

DEAR MRS. PATTISON,--I saw a paragraph not long ago in the
_Academy_ which concerned me deeply; it did not _say_, but it
implied that my dear old friend and master, Ed. Steinle
(professor at Frankfurt a/M) is dead. Did you by chance write
the note? and do you know when or how he died, if he be indeed
dead? His wife has not written to me. I am anxious to have some
certainty in the matter.

(Influenced) "--for good far beyond all others by Steinle, a noble-minded, single-hearted artist, _s'il en fut_ ... Steinle's is the indelible seal." In making any estimate of Leighton's character these words should ever be remembered. They prove how deeply rooted were those feelings on which his principles were grafted. These words were no mere outlet for youthful enthusiasm and affection, but were noted with reference to an account of his life about to be written for publication; therefore we may consider them to be a deliberate statement made for a purpose, when he had reached the zenith of his fame and was already President of the Academy. The design by Steinle here produced, called _Der Winter_, in which the artist has drawn his own portrait when old, throws a light on the mind and nature of Leighton's master, whose influence on him for good was greater "far beyond all others."

Written on the drawing are these lines, penned by Steinle:--

Giunto e gia 'l corso della vita mia,
Che tempestoso mar per fragil barca
Al comun porto ov 'a render si varca
Giunto ragion d'ogni opera trista e pia.
Indi l'affettuosa fantasia
Che l'arte si fece idola e monarca
Conosco ben quant 'era d'error carca
Ch' errore e cio che l'uom quaggiu desia.

. . . . . .

I pensier miei gia de' miei danni lieti
Che fian se s'a due morti m'avvicino
L'una m' e certa, l'altra mi minaccia?

. . . . . .

Ne pinger ne scolpir fin piu che queti
L'anima volta a quell' amor divino
Ch'aperse a prender noi in croce le braccia.

No other member of Leighton's family was ever known to have been an artist, and neither his parents nor his sisters pretended to any knowledge of painting; but respecting literature he had an interest in common with both his sisters, also a very strong sympathy existed between Mrs. Matthews and Leighton in their love for music. In answer to a letter from Mrs. Orr relating to Mr. Augustine Birrell's well-known book, Leighton wrote, "I have read 'Obiter Dicta,' and am much charmed with its delicate humour and ease of its style. I thought 'Truth Seekers' charmingly written." With reference, however, to the Browning chapter he continues:--

Browning's obscurity hides a shorthand of which he keeps the key
in _his_ pocket. A matter of form, _not_ of matter, as "O.D."
hath it. Browning is not abstruse; he is a _deep_ thinker, who
_therefore_ (_vide_ "O.D.") requires obscure language; he is a
most ingenious dialectician and a subtle analyst; but he is not
a great poet on _that_ account--he is a great poet because of
his magnificent central heat, and the surface of interests over
which he sheds it. All this is rather late in the day to remark,
and one would not be exasperated by his friends if one had not a
sort of feeling that they _have_ done something to mar him. You
say he would not be obscure if he _knew_ it?--_distinguons_. His
obscurity is not intentional--of course--it is inherent in a
style which is strongly personal, and therefore sincere--but is
it in no degree _wilful_?--does he _not_ accept, virtually, some
such (absolutely false) view of his obscurity as "O.D.'s"? A
pity it certainly is; Browning is the last man who in his heart
_wishes_ to touch only the few--nobody knows better than he does
that that is not the characteristic of the greatest poets, and
that not for that is a poet's soul kindled to a white heat.
Meanwhile, here _is_ the fact that men of average culture and
average brains (I claim both, for an example), and _desirous_ of
_understanding_, as well as full of admiration for his powers,
often get at his meaning only by considerable effort, and
sometimes not at all, and that not because the thought is
obscure, but because it is wilfully written in cypher.

The following letter to a friend of his sister's contains a criticism of Leighton's on Goethe's _Sprueche_ under the head of "Kunst":--

_Private._]
2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.,
17/8/91.

DEAR MR. BAILEY SAUNDERS,--Complying with your wish, expressed
through my sister, Mrs. Orr, I have gone carefully through the
_Sprueche_ under the head "Kunst," and have marked certain
passages. I have, however, deferred writing till the last moment
(I am starting presently for the Continent), partly because I
have been overwhelmingly busy, and partly because I am a good
deal "exercised" on the whole matter. To speak with entire
frankness, I cannot feel sympathy with the idea of the
publication, and feel that the connection of my name with it
would imply an adhesion which does not exist. On re-reading more
than once the maxims and sayings in question, which I had not
seen for many years, I find myself confirmed in my earlier
impression of them, that their value is in no way commensurate
to the authority of Goethe's great name. Some of them are, in my
opinion, wholly misleading and some obscure; some commonplace,
some irrelevant to the subject. Again, my markings do not by any
means always mean assent; and, on the other hand, the
discrimination between the value of a marked paragraph is often
a nice one, and is not represented by the difference between
selection and omission, which, _on the face of it_, seems assent
and dissent. In sum, I ask myself what the outcome is--what _is_
the selection? it does not give to the world an important or
instructive intellectual possession; it _seems_ to express the
selection of the best by a particular individual (who does not
spontaneously desire to make such selections), and in _reality_
does _not_ represent anything that he assents to throughout.

But why a selection at all? I cannot refrain from asking myself.
The interest of these particular _Sprueche_ lies in the fact that
_they are utterances of Goethe's_ (and he gave them with a
context)--but then what is the meaning of a selection?

You see I speak very bluntly in the matter, but also sincerely;
and I have at all events shown my good will.--In much haste,
yours faithfully,

FRED LEIGHTON.

I am, as I said, just off, but if you wished especially to
communicate with me, a line sent _here_ would reach me after
some delay.

Though Leighton persisted in affirming that he hardly ever read, the number of letters, and answers to letters from scholars, referring to poems and general literature, which exist in the correspondence he preserved, prove that if he did not read he nevertheless somehow got a knowledge of the inside of books. To a question having reference to the Nine Muses (he was then painting his frieze "Music") which he asked Swinburne, he received the answer:--

THE PINES, PUTNEY HILL, S.W.,
_August 21, 1885_.

DEAR LEIGHTON,--I doubt very much whether Shelley himself could
have answered your question to your satisfaction. His
scholarship was that of a clever but idle boy in the upper forms
of a public school. His translation from Plato, as Mr. Jowett
tells me, and his translation from Euripides, as I know by
personal experiment, having carefully collated it with the
original text, absolutely swarm with blunders, sometimes,
certainly, resulting in sheer nonsense. I fancy he may have been
thinking of Aphrodite Urania, and perhaps confounding (as indeed
it seems to me that a Greek poet might possibly and pardonably
have done) the goddess of divine love with the Muse who was
_not_ the Muse of astronomy when she first made her appearance
in the Theogony of Hesiod, but simply the "heavenly one" in a
general way, as I gather from a reference to the lexicon. I
should have thought Calliope or Euterpe a fitter head mourner
for Keats: but probably Shelley wished to introduce the most
distinguished in the rank of the Muses in that capacity, on such
an occasion. And if Urania was in a certain sense the chief of
the Nine, she would naturally be most musical of mourners.--Ever
yours sincerely,

A.C. SWINBURNE.

As years went on, Leighton became more and more enamoured of the beauty to be found in our own islands, and longed, as can be traced in his letters, that his sisters should share with him his intense love of nature.

To his elder sister, who was in Yorkshire, he wrote in 1887:--

"A broad shoulder of moor, lifted against a great field of sky,
is one of the grandest and most pathetic things in nature (see
Leopardi). The beauty of moorland is that it has a particular
poetry and impressiveness for _every_ condition of atmosphere
and weather."

Again:--

"I am very glad you like Ilkley so much--moors have an immense
fascination for me, but all English scenery of whatever kind has
charm for me. It has two immense virtues: first, being entirely
of its own _kind_, it never suggests a, to itself, disparaging
comparison with the scenery of any other country, and secondly,
it is steeped, every fold and nook of it, in English poetry, and
is haunted with the murmur of the prettiest of peace-suggesting
words: _home_. I wonder whether you both feel as I do the
endearing quality in our old green-brown country."

It became his habit, in these later years, to visit Scotland in September before flying off to his second home. More and more did he realise the marvellous beauty of the scenery there. He told me, shortly before he died, that the most beautiful vision he had ever beheld on earth was the one he saw when approaching Skye by sea from the south, when the sun was setting and illuminating the range of the Cuillin Hills with magic light and colour. He wrote to his father from:--

THE HIGHLAND RAILWAY COMPANY'S STATION HOTEL,
INVERNESS.