Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2123 page)

“Weston House, October 4th, 1835.

“Perhaps you may have been expecting to hear from me before, and I hardly know why I did not write to you a day or two since. Although my time is fully occupied by day, and bedtime here is so late, I certainly could have scratched a line, for the purpose of repeating what
you
like so much to hear, and
I
so much to say that you become dearer to me every day.

“We have lately added to our party the Chancellor of the Exchequer, whose conversational powers are so great, that the excitement of our days and nights is much increased; and I own that I go to bed not only very late, but without much inclination to go at all. I will, however, behave more prudently in this matter. We purpose going over to Northwick Park on Tuesday, the 6th; where I am to be left. Whether I shall stay there more than two or three days I cannot say. The weather, though unfavourable, has seldom interfered with my rides; so you see I still continue to attend to my health. I think I must give up the idea of going into Staffordshire for this season, as I must get to work after all this idleness, and the days are too short for much out of doors’ work, and too cold even were they longer.

I never recollect spending a more agreeable time, whenever I have been absent from home; — so much good-humour, so much kind attention, and so entire an absence of selfishness as our whole party exhibit, is certainly rare. We have been getting up some capital
Tableaux Vivans,
which have made a great stir; and when you see a little favourite of mine in London, you will acknowledge that our principal figure had some attractions. We found a ready and useful figure, also, in a very pleasant member of our circle, who has just left us — the Solicitor-General. So here, you see, I am in the midst of the Whig ministry; and if pleasant manners, and an entire absence of the would-be great man, could convert me from my Toryism, I should soon change my politics. I think I am already neutralizing.
‘Big-wiggism,’
you know, I always had a contempt for.

“I sincerely trust I shall find the children all I can wish, when I come home again. Thank God, my trust in his mercy and pity is great; at this season, however, and on one subject, I lean too much to the gloom I am so prone to.* God only can help me, in this or any other matter. Pray for me.

“Yours ever,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

* This letter was written at the period of the year which was associated with the recollection of his brother’s fatal illness.

Inclosed in the above letter was one from my father, which I shall next venture to insert, as assisting in that elucidation of his personal character which so many passages in his communications to his family have, I trust, already contributed to effect, and which it is not for me to endeavour to impress on the reader from my own convictions, or in any other manner less thoroughly testifying of impartiality than that of leaving him to unfold his own disposition, by the most unerring criterion for the judgments of others — his letters to home:

 

“To WILLIAM WILKIE AND CHARLES COLLINS.”

“Weston House, Sunday morning.

“Dear Willy and Charley, — Your mother’s account, in her last letter, of you both, pleased me much. Go on praying to God, through Jesus Christ, to enable you, by his Holy Spirit, to be blessings to your parents; and then you must be happy. Both your letters were well written, and I was delighted to hear you were pleased with the holiday you had on Michaelmas-day. I have made only a few sketches, — one of them, however, will, I think, please you both. It is a drawing of a large gray horse, which was brought to me from the plough. The drawing occupied my time, I dare say, four hours. The horse is evidently of the Flanders breed, and I know Charley always likes to see horses of that class. I think I shall have it framed, and make a present of it to my own Charley. I have a sketch of a water-mill, which I rode many miles yesterday to make, and which, if Willy should take a fancy for, I shall have framed and give to him.

“And now, my dear boys, I must leave you, and prepare for going to church, (which we have here in the afternoon,) where I shall pray for my two children and their mother, as well as for all the world besides.

“One of the prettiest little robin redbreasts is now singing to me on the balcony of my bedroom, where I am writing. This is as much as to say, — ’Come, my master! suppose you go home to your good people at Bayswater; for you know I am not fond of chirping about in this way, until the sharp mornings of October teach me to cultivate my acquaintance with your strapping fellows, who have so many crumbs that are of no use to you, and which you know we robins consider a great treat!’

“A pretty
long
letter, methinks, for two such
short
fellows! However, I never regret any trouble I may have in doing anything for good boys.

“From your affectionate father,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

From Weston House the painter proceeded to Northwick Park, whence his letters thus continue:

 

“To MRS. COLLINS.

“Northwick Park, Oct. 8th, 1836.

“I just steal a moment to say that I arrived here on Tuesday, that I am quite delighted with the very great beauty of this place, and the kindness of its elegant owner, with whom I have engaged to ride over to Lord Redesdale’s. I think I shall leave Northwick on Monday, if the weather be fine, go to Worcester, stay in that neighbourhood one day, and then, please God, return to ‘sweet home.’

“I think I am better in health, both of body and mind, than I have been for some time. Sir George and Lady Philips are to be invited here on Saturday. Roberts and Fraser arrived last night; and these, with a Mr. Lane, a nephew of Lady Stepney’s, make our party. Write to me, not later than Saturday. If you should see Wilkie, give him my kindest regards, and tell him we often talk about him. I long to see what he has been able to make of his visit to Ireland.

“Affectionately yours,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

A visit, after quitting Northwick Park, to the seat of Lord King, closed Mr. Collins’s excursions into the country, during this autumn. On his return to Bayswater, the subject of the journey to Italy was again revived; and on this occasion, not without producing some positive effect. Although as yet undecided about the precise time of his departure, his long-cherished convictions of the pleasure and advantage that would accrue to him from the proposed tour, had by this time become so much strengthened, as to determine him on taking the earliest opportunity — in the next autumn, if it were possible — of passing a year at least in Italy. A decision being thus arrived at, he now set himself seriously while the many minor preparations for his projected journey were still under consideration — to achieve a parting success, in his old range of subjects, at the next season’s Exhibition, before he quitted the sojourn of his native country, for his studies on foreign shores.

Leaving the important pictures which his labours of this year produced, to be noticed at the period when they were exhibited to the public, it is necessary, in inserting a letter now about to be subjoined, to remark, that the subject of it — Gilbert Stuart Newton, R.A. — had been, for a long period, one of Mr. Collins’s most valued transatlantic friends, and most admired brother painters. Favourably known to the lovers of grace and tenderness in Art, among the public, by his pictures from Shakespeare, Moliere, etc., etc., and by his exquisite illustrations of female character; and among his friends by his wit, vivacity, and professional knowledge; this accomplished painter was afflicted with sudden insanity in the maturity of his powers. It became immediately necessary to place him under medical care. While he was at the Asylum to which he had been removed, Mr. Collins, and his old friend and fellow Academician Mr. Leslie, visited him; and found him still partially deranged — but shortly afterwards, he became reasonable and resigned. This sudden tranquillity proved however, not a harbinger of recovery, but an omen of death! He breathed his last, a few days afterwards, on the 13th August, 1835. Some months subsequent to his decease, when a biography of him was projected, Mr. Collins wrote to Mr. Leslie the letter now presented, on the genius and character of their departed friend:

 

“To C. R. LESLIE, ESQ., R.A.

“Porehester-terrace, Bayswater,

“February 24th, 1836.

“My dear Leslie, — I regret much that, until this morning, my promise to write to you never once occurred to me; but I know you will excuse me, when you recollect that every evening since we met, has been devoted to the Academy.

“With respect to our lamented friend Newton, I feel anxious to mention a few general impressions of his character; especially because when I first became acquainted with him, nearly twenty years since, I certainly did not estimate him as I have since been fully persuaded he deserved. It appears to me that his vivid conception of character, and his exceedingly ready, happy, and often absolutely witty way of expressing himself, were calculated to lead those who did not intimately know him, to charge him with want of heart; I am happy however to say, that I sincerely believe him to have been a most estimable creature. To my late excellent brother — who lived near him, and saw a great deal of him — he was exceedingly kind, did everything in his power to serve him, and upon his lamented death, in the autumn of 1833, wrote me a letter which I shall ever highly prize. How little did I then anticipate that poor Newton was so soon to follow the friend, whose loss he had so feelingly and so lately deplored!

“Of his genius as a painter, I can speak with the highest admiration. Taste, that undefinable natural gift, pervaded everything he did. His ‘conception of a subject was always judicious; his feeling for character and expression so nice, that he never degenerated into mannerism, or caricature. His
chiaroscuro
was conducted with great breadth, and was always in unison with the sentiment he desired to convey; and, above all, his talent as a colourist, was unexceptionable; not only as respected the general arrangement of colour and tone, but in the happy choice and delicate contrast of his local colours and broken tints. In some of his female figures, the flesh seemed to be an union of the beauties of Vandyke and Watteau — witness his ‘Jessica,’ especially. The ‘Portia and Bassanio,’ I saw a short time ago, with our friend Wilkie, in the collection of Mr. Sheepshanks; and we were much struck with the beauty of its tone, and its other high qualities. I know no one more sensible of poor Newton’s merits, than Wilkie, whose great sincerity and sound judgment, you will agree with me, renders his praise truly valuable. Indeed, the painters, I think I may say without exception, unite in deploring the great loss the English school has sustained in the death of Newton. That he should have been taken from us in his vigour as an artist, and at a time when he seemed to have attained everything that could be desired in the most interesting relations of private life, is another lesson for us all. To
her
who loved him most, how great a blessing must it be, under her bereavement, to know that it pleased God to restore to him his faculties, previous to his death; and that the remnant of his time on earth should have been devoted so entirely to Him, who in mercy produced so wonderful and so unexpected a change.

“When you write to Mrs. Newton, pray offer her my sincere regards, as well as those of my wife; and believe me, my dear Leslie,

“Yours most faithfully,

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

The Royal Academy Exhibition of 1836, contained three pictures by my father — the last new efforts the public were to see by his hand, for the next two years. A sea-piece and two cottage scenes, composed these farewell offerings, in two styles which he had now made widely popular, for more than twenty years. The sea-piece, the incident of which was naturally suggested by the painter’s own situation at the time it was composed, was appropriately called “Leaving Home.” The two cottage scenes, were the well-known pictures of “Sunday Morning,” and “Happy as a King.”

In “Leaving Home,” a family are descending the steps of a pier that runs out some distance into the sea, and are preparing to enter a fishing-boat, the sail of which is already set for the departure. The bright, airy colouring of the scene; the buoyancy of the water, as it dances round the old pier; the delicate painting and natural sentiment of the figures descending to embark; the bold attitude of the lad in the fishing-boat, “holding on” by a boat-hook to the steps of the jetty; all display the thorough individuality, which is the attractive characteristic of the artist’s works of this class. The picture was engraved in the line manner, and was purchased by Mr. Jacob Bell. Of the painter’s two cottage scenes of this year — both familiar to the lovers of Art by the widely-circulated prints from each — it may safely be observed, that as the closing productions in the series of rustic subjects which he had now for some years exhibited, they rivalled, in vigour and felicity of treatment, any of their predecessors. “Sunday Morning,” breathes throughout the spirit of the beautiful poem by Herbert, which is the motto of the picture. A pretty cottage, with honeysuckles and creepers growing over its walls; an aged woman descending the steps between her son and daughter; a quiet old white horse waiting in the road to carry her; neat happy children grouped around the animal — the youngest of them trying to feed him with an apple; a winding avenue of great trees, with the lane beneath them dappled with spots of the pure sunlight from above; the village clergyman and his congregation walking quietly towards the church, whose white spire is seen in the distance — such are the simple materials of the picture, and over each and all of them the same pure and peaceful sentiment presides. In the most trivial, as in the most important objects of the composition, the resources of Art are used with equal skill and equal power, to produce that impression of mild religious tranquillity, which the successful treatment of the subject demands; and which makes this picture at once an eulogium on the humble piety of the English peasant, and a homily on the reverence that is due to the Christian’s Sunday.

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