SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

BIOORAPHY.

The Life of Sir David Wilkie, with his Journals, Tours, anti Critical Remarks on Works of Art ; and a Selection from his Correspondence. By Allan Cunningham.

Is three volumes Murray.

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

Letters from Madras, during the years 1836-1839. By a Lady Murray.

HERALDRY,

The Barouetage for 1843. Being a Genealogical Account of the Families forming the Sixth Degree of Dignity Hereditary, or High Nobility in the British Empire. By Sir Richard Broun, Eq. Aur. K. J. J. Hun. Secretary to the Committee of the Baronetage for Privileges.

ALLAN CUNNINGHAM'S LIFE OF WILKIE.

Tins publication is rather select materials for the life and letters of WILKIE than a finished biography of the artist. Exclusive of some Remarks on Painting, of the nature of a treatise, the work consists of a biographical narrative by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM, in- termingled with much of WILKIE'S correspondence and extensive extracts from his journal ; but as these original documents have often furnished Mr. CUNNINGHAM with his principal materials, the substance of the work is occasionally a thrice-told tale,— the biographer presenting the pith of his authorities in a sort of setting, the journal telling the story a second time, and the letters the third. As WILKIE, moreover, in his correspondence sometimes repeats the same things in different words, the reader may have to peruse a fact or a sentiment five or six times over. In addition to this, much of the matter is not biographical. In the journals, especially in those kept during his tour in Italy and Spain, there are often criticisms on pictures, or remarks on art, which belong to the writings not to the life of WILKIE; and during his last Eastern excursion, there are observations on the country that rather appertain to travels. The letters have something analagous, being often complimentary or commonplace ; indeed, so little selection is obvious, that had WILKIE written double the number of letters and journal memoranda, the three volumes might have been extended to six, or any other proportionate number. This modern vice of ill-arrangement imparts heaviness and dis- traction to the work, which a division into life, letters, and mis- cellaneous observations, would easily have remedied. The Editor, Mr. PETER CUNNINGHAM, directs attention in judging of the work, to the sudden death of his father : a plea that avails in minor points, and to the closing passages, which are somewhat unsatis- factory in what is done, and leave some things undone ; but can have no effect on the general character of the book, which could not have been changed by revision in type. This treatment of a professed life—for such is the form of the work whatever may be the phrases of the titlepage—is the more ill-considered, as the career of WILKIE did not abound in events, and differed in nothing from that of the generality of artists except in his genius and his early success ; which things are to be exhibited in broad characteristics rather than described by a suc- cession of petty minutiEe.

Born in 1785, the son of a respectable but scantily-paid minister of the Scotch Kirk, DAVID WILKIE early exhibited a genius for painting. Before he could speak plain, he amused himself by sketching forms in the sand and endeavouring to portray faces which had struck him ; at school he covered the fly-sheets and margins of his books with the likenesses of his schoolfellows ; and while his attention was riveted to his desk, be was occupied with drawing, not study. It was the same in the playground, the field, the fair, or the country review. Even in the house, he left traces, like POPE'S poetical enthusiast-

" Who, lock'd from ink and paper, scrawls With desperate charcoal round the darkened walls."

And at a somewhat later period than his school-days, he took like- nesses in church, which caused some scandal till he became famous in London. Such a " gift" united with such perseverance, at- tracted the attention not only of his immediate acquaintance, but of some of the neighbouring aristocracy. His father and grandfather originally designed him for the Church ; and judi- cious doubts were felt as to the imprudence of adopting the pro- fession of an artist instead of some calling more certain in its emo- luments. Misgivings, however, gave way before the determination of young WILKIE and the encouragement of friends. In 1799, he started for Edinburgh with a letter from the Earl of LEVEN to the Secretary of the Trustees' Academy but that gentleman, on in- specting his drawings, refused to admit him ; and it was only by the further interference of the Earl that he was received as a pupil. In Edinburgh he remained four years, studying hard both from the antique in the Academy and from nature in the streets ; living penuriously on the slender allowance his father was able to make, eked out by painting small portraits, and an occasional money-prize carried off from the Academy. From the reminiscences of his sur- viving fellow-students which Mr. CUNNINGHAM has received, it would appear that at this early period his mind was turned instinctively to his first and beat style ; the first sketch of the Village Politicians having been painted during his residence in Edinburgh. In 1804, he returned to his native place of Cults in Fifeshire ; where he made some money by portraits, and by one sign at least ; painted his first great picture of Pitlessie Fair, and another called the Village Recruit ; and then determined to start for London. He reached the capital in 1805, in his twentieth year, with some 501. or 601.,—a large sum for such a youth to have ac- quired from provincial painting in a short space of time, and saying much for the prudence of WILKIE and the liberality of Fife. The year in London 1805-6 may be said to have been WiLitis's year of struggle : it was to decide whether he was to continue in

the Metropolis as a rising artist, or to fall back upon Fifeshire as a country-painter. His first step was to enter the Royal Academy ; where, and for many years afterwards, he studied indefatigably : he next delivered his letters of introduction—which were of little ad-

vantage to him : he exhibited in shop-windows for sale some pictures he had by him, and painted more for the same purpose—

by which he made a little money : he also painted a few portraits. But notwithstanding all his labour and economy, he was often hard- run. He writes to his father in January 1806, a letter which con- tains the pith of his difficulties and the germ of his success-

" I am now become quite inured to the difficulties of living in London ; for I have been several times reduced within the bounds of the last half-guinea,

and have been under the necessity of living upon credit. However, I have still as yet cleared my way and kept out of the pawnbroker's ; although at one time I was on the brink of writing to you for a supply, as I was rather harassed about insuring from the militia. I have now, however, reason to be thankful that I have partly got over all these difficulties, and have now the prospect of getting more extensive employment in the portrait way; and if that should fail, I have now found a very ready market for my other paintings, which necessity made me find out. I request, when you write me again, yoa will send me an extract from the Session-book of my exact age, in case I shall need it for the militia business.

"My prospects at present are very much improved, through the means of

ray two friends the Stodarts, [the well-known pianoforte-makers,] who have introduced me to two families of quality. The Countess of Mansfield happen- ing to see the Pitlessie Market at their house cue day, desired that it might be sent home with her to show some gentlemen : the consequence was, that I was sent for the next day, and was received very kindly by her Ladyship,

who professed a great desire of getting me introduced to notice. D. W."

This introduction led to the commission from Lord MaisseiELD for the Village Politicians. The original price talked of was fifteen guineas, which WILKIE considered was an unsettled and open price, and his Lordship declared "upon his honour" was a fixed one ; but, after much mean and huckster-like chaffering on the part of the Peer, it was procured for thirty guineas, WILKIE having been twice offered a hundred for it while it was in the exhibition. The

mere sum, however, for which the picture was sold, though it might reflect discredit on the illiberality of the purchaser, and be of some temporary inconvenience to the painter, was of no permanent con- sequence. The attraction of the picture immediately introduced

him to public celebrity and "distinguished patronage." He had at once commissions from the late amiable Sir GEORGE Beaumorrr

and other admirers of the fine arts. In 1809 he was elected an Associate, in 1811 a Member of the Royal Academy. In 1814, he re- turned his income to the Income-tax at 5001.; his gross estimate

being 5891., from which he made deductions for rent, &c. In 1818 he commenced the Penny Wedding, on commission from the Prince Regent ; and the same year began the Chelsea Pensioners for the Duke of WELLINGTON. In 1820, GEORGE the Fourth wished to deprive the King of Bavaria of" The Reading of the Will" ; but the honesty of the painter and the keenness of the Bavarian Minister baffled the royal connoisseur. In 1825, family troubles, coupled with the results of excessive labour, brought on a nervous com- plaint, that, without affecting his general health, rendered him

incapable of either reading, writing, or painting, beyond a few minutes at a time. As the disease defied medicine, he was ordered to travel ; and he remained on the Continent for three years, visit- ing Italy, Germany, and Spain. From Spain he brought back, in his forty-third year, (1828,) enlarged views of art, and a new style, neither adapted to his native genius nor his previous habits. His subsequent career in historical portrait and history, as well as his late death, are too familiar to the public to require mention.

The life of WILKIE may be considered in two phases, both as an artist and a man. In the first period, he followed as an artist the

bent of his genius ; confining his principal efforts to that walk of art which he may be said to have created—an incident from common life told dramatically, and developing strongly-marked though common- life character. In the pursuit of excellence in this genial line, he was at once prudent and persevering. He does not seem so much to have invented subjects as to have watched or waited for sugges- tions from life or popular literature. When he had fixed in this way upon a subject, his study and labours were untiring. He made a succession of sketches, grouping both principal and subordinate figures in every way, till he had satisfied himself, and pursuing the same course with the accessories. Each single person was the result of similar care : his characters were originally taken from life, se- lected with a view to their individual action and general effect ; and then painted from the closest model he could procure. After all this preliminary labour, his study was by no means at an end. In

painting the picture, he consulted his own judgment, listened willingly to criticism, and altered or repainted whatever he saw could be improved. The result of such labour was few paintings : at first one, and then two pictures of any mark, was the work of a year. After he had inspected the chefs-d'eeuvre of Italy and Spain, WILKIE saw, or thought he saw, an easier road to excellence. In mere execution, perhaps he was right. Manual dexterity he had

attained by long and laborious practice ; breadth of effect and largeness of manner might have ensued from his observation of the great Italian masters. Had he stopped here, all would have been well ; but he must change his theme as well as his mode of handling ; and the most unpoetically-minded of men attempted heroic, devo- tional, and historical subjects. Unfortunately, too, he seems to have carried his compendious methods into his design as well as his execution. Instead of the earlier trials and retrials of his sub- ject, expanding, varying, and revising the hints he derived from

nature, he appears to have often transcribed an incident as it occurred ; as if the novelty of a foreign scene could be a substitute for his old habits of labour. The practical result of all this was, that instead of one or two pictures for the Exhibition, he generally contrived to produce eight, the full number the rules of the Academy allow to be exhibited ; and WILKIE and Mr. CUNNING.. nem seem to think this a subject of gratulation. The change was also injurious to his character as a public man. During the early period of his career, he was simple and unpretend- ing; and though very prudent, was as independent-minded as an artist can well be, who, beholden to patronage not only for his sub- sistence but almost for the means of exercising his art, is apt to re- gard the great with something of a cringing servility, or treat them with a servile insolence. As WILKIE'S fame and prices increased, he appears not to have escaped the auri sacra fames, and to have some- what regarded his art as a thing to trade upon—as a thing, indeed, in which excellence was desirable, because without it the pictures would not sell, but which need not be pursued beyond the sale. point. With the patronage of Kings and the Court came a hank- ering after fashionable reputation and the character of a courtier, which, judging from the style of his letters, could have sat but ill upon him ; whilst the cast of his mind, and the whole habits of his life, prevented him from reaching the meretricious grace which dis- tinguishes and pleases gentlemen-ushers, maids of honour, et id genus onme. The office on which he greatly plumed himself; that of Painter in Ordinary, was perhaps more mischievous to him as an artist than any other event in his career. Although an unskilful arrangement, and some want of selection, militate against the effect of this work, especially as a whole, the materials of which it consists are often of great value and interest. The scattered remarks of WILKIE on art, and the history of the stages by which his early pictures attained their present state, will be useful and attractive both to the artist and the critic. The pas- sages in his journals and correspondence narrating his interviews with his patrons, though sometimes meagre, and not painting much of "the manners and the mind," attract by well-known names. Besides the biographical interest attaching to a great artist, his early struggles exhibit the characteristic caution and economy of his country ; qualities, indeed, that stuck to him till his death, and shone out conspicuously on all emergencies, whether involving loss of money or of life. Many of the reminiscences furnished to Mr. CUNNINGHAM abound in anecdotes and traits of the man ; and there is a good deal of interest in parts of the correspondence, especially in the letters of Sir GEORGE BEAUMONT, from the just- ness of his criticisms on art, and the amiability of his character. Of the various topics of the volumes, we shall not, however, at- tempt to give examples, but confine ourselves to a few miscella- neous extracts.

LADY HAMILTON IN 1809.

"This being Twelfth-night, I went by appointment to Sir William Beechey's, where we had a very splendid entertainment: the Hoppners were there; and after listening for some time to music, in which the Miss Beecheys are great proficients, we had a dance which lasted till supper-time. I there met for the first time the too celebrated Lady Hamilton : she had with her a girl supposed to be the daughter of Lord Nelson, a creature of great sweet- ness. Lady Hamilton, knowing me by name, called me, and said that her daughter had the finest taste imaginable, and that she excelled in graceful attitudes. She then made her stand in the middle of the room with a piece of drapery, and throw herself into a number of those elegant postures for which

her v in her prime was so distinguished. She afterwards told me of all else her daughtercould do, and concluded by asking me if I did not think her very like her father. 1 said I had never seen that eminent person. Lady Hamilton is lusty, and tall, and of fascinating manners ; but her features are bold and masculine. Her daughter's name is Horatia Hamilton. After sup- per, we were entertained by some songs from Lady Hamilton, and with a fine specimen of mimicry by Mr. Twiss ; who gave us a speech in the manner of Pitt, which many pronounced excellent."

SHORT PASSAGES FROM THE JOURNAL.

"Painted till four, and went over the boy's hand with the cut finger. To the Academy ; and in returning through Leicester Square, looked on the moon and

the other planets through a telescope for a penny. • • • • To church; where I heard Sydney Smith preach a sermon, which, for its elo- quence and power of reasoning, exceeded any thing I had ever heard. The subject was the conversion of St. Paul ; of which he proved the authenticity, in opposition to all the objections and doubts of Infidelity. Called on Mrs. Bane, and left my card. Called at the Admiralty, and was sorry to find that Miss Phipps was no better. Mem. The delicacy which is the offspring of power is always superior to the softness of a mind which cannot rise above the pretty and the delicate. Painted from ten till four, and put into my little picture the small ship on the chair, and finished the floor and the small pieces of wood upon it. Called on Liston and Bannister ; who proposed to me for a subject, 'The Opening of a Will ; ' which I consider an excellent idea, and lam much obliged to them for suggesting it."

GEORGE THE FOURTH'S FAULT OF "THE PENNY WEDDING."

All the glee and modest joy of the elder poets of Scotland are in the picture of Wilkie, with none of their lasciviousness; for the absence of which, it is whispered that the Prince hardly forgave him ; for he loved a joke which touched on the delicate line of decorum, nor disliked the Muse, when, like Maggie, whose charms she sang, she went a little high-kilted.

THE GREAT DUKE AS A CONNOISSEUR.

"Went to dine with Haydon; and when absent, was so unfortunate as to miss the Duke of Wellington, who did me the honour to call about three o'clock. His Grace looked at the sketch, but made scarcely any remark upon it ; but both the Duke and the friend that was with him seemed to look with atten- tion at The Wedding, and at Duncay Gray. His Grace said, when going, that

be would call again. •a .

" Called at Apsley House. Had an interview with the Duke; who told me he wished to have in the picture more of the soldiers of the present day, instead of those I had put of a half-century ago. He wished me to make a slight sketch of the alteration, and would call on me in a week or ten days to look st it. a • •

"The Duke of Wellington called, and requested that I would call at Apsley House tomorrow morning at half-past ten, to meet Mr. Long, and to consider about the picture. " Called at Apsley House. Mr. Long there ; and after waiting a considerable time' the Duke of Wellington came from a review in the Park. He showed Mr. Long the two sketches of The Chelsea Pensioners ; stating what he liked and disliked, and observing that out of the two a picture might be made that would do. He.preferred the one with the young figures ; but as Mr. Long re- monstrated against the old fellows being taken out, the Duke agreed that the man reading should be a Pensioner, besides some others in the picture. He wished that the Piper might be put in, also the old man with the wooden leg ; but he objected to the man with the opthalmia, Mr. Long preferred the com- position of the first sketch in the might on the right hand. "I then asked the Duke if I might now begin the picture; and he said, im- mediately if I pleased. I brought the sketches home with me."

STUDIES FOR "THE CHELSEA PENSIONERS."

The Waterloo Gazette was like a spell on Wilkie during the whole of the year 1821, ant as far as into the succeeding year as the mouth of April, when it went to the Exhibition : those who were curious in such things might have met him, after measuring the ground, as it were, where the scene of his pic- ture is laid, watching the shadows of the houses and trees, eyeing every pic- turesque pensioner who passed, and taking heed of jutting houses, projecting signs, and odd gates, in the old rabblement of houses which, in days before the cholera and amended taste, formed the leading street, or rather road, of Chelsea. Norhad he seen without emotion, as I have heardhim say, the married sol- diers when they returned from the dreadful wars; sometimes two legs, as he observed, to three men, accompanied by women, most of whom had seen and some had shared in the perils and hardships of the Spanish campaigns, or had witnessed the more dreadful Waterloo, and soothed or ministered to the wounded as they were borne from the field- , " When from each anguisb-laden wain

The blood•dropa laid the dust Like rain."

With these, Chelsea mingled veterans who had been at Bunker's Hill and Sa- ratoga : others were blinded with the hot sands of India or Egypt, or carried the scars of the Duke of York's campaign in the outbreak of the great war of the French Revolution. He brooded over all these matters. Every time he visited Chelsea, and saw groups of soldiers paid and disbanded, and observed their convivialities the more was he confirmed that the choice of the picture was excellent, and that even the desire of the Duke to mingle the soldiers of his own great battles with the hoary veterans of the American war had its ad- vantages.

THE DUKE AS A CRITIC.

"Had the honour of a call from the Duke of Wellington to see the picture. He seemed highly pleased with it : took notice of the Black's head and old Doggy, and of the black dog which followed the Blues in Spain : observed that it was more finished than any I had done ; was interested with what I told him of the people, and where they had served; and seemed pleased with the young man at the table, and with the circumstance that old Doggy had been at the siege of Gibraltar. " The Duke of Wellington called with a lady and gentleman. His Grace wished to see the engravings from my pictures : I accordingly showed those in the parlour ; with which they all seemed much interested. The Duke said to his friends, that The Rent-Day was the first that he had ever seen of my works, and that he was much struck with it."

THE DUKE AS A PAYMASTER, AND WILKIE THEREUPON.

"Sent the picture to Apsley House, with a bill of the price, which, after mature consideration, I put at 1,2604 i e. twelve hundred guineas.

"Was told by Sir Willoughby Gordon, that his Grace was satisfied to give twelve hundred guineas for the picture, and gave Sir Willoughby leave to tell me so.

"At the Duke's request, waited upon him at Apsley House; when he counted out the money to me in bank-notes ; on receiving which, I told his Grace that I considered myself handsomely treated by him throughout."

The endeavours of George the Fourth to possess himself of "The Reading of a Will" is one of those matters which is told several times over. We prefer the narrative in the journal as the most racy- " Sir Thomas told me he had a request to make on behalf of his Majesty, respecting my picture now in the Exhibition; which is, whether he might have the picture' and whether a duplicate might not be sent of it to Bavaria.

"I told Sir Thomas, that my first desire was to comply with his Majesty's request, in as far as my time:and labour were concerned ; but that the difficulty would be with my first employer : but before giving an answer, I said I must consult with the Marquis of Stafford.

"I accordingly went to the Marquis, and told him ; but he said he did not wish to interfere, and that the Baron Pfeffil was the most proper person to speak to. I then went to the Baron ; and, with great acuteness, he put the case in this way—that either the picture was mine, or that it belongs to the King of Bavaria. If mine, I may dispose of it as I please • but if it was the King of Bavaria's, then the matter could only be arranged by an application from the King of Great Britain to the King of Bavana. I told him that if the picture was approved of by the King of Bavaria, and the money paid I had engaged to paint it for, that it was certainly the King of Bavaria s picture. The Baron recommended, if any application was to be made about it, that Sir Thomas Lawrence should write to Mr. Brook Taylor at his Court, who would settle it in a friendly way. Left the Baron, and went to a coffeehouse, and wrote the substance of what the Baron had told me to Sir Thomas Lawrence.

• • • "Received an answer from Sir Thomas Lawrence, stating that he had had the honour of an audience previous to the receipt of my last letter, and that he had received the Royal commands to write to Mr. Brook Taylor at Munich, agreeable to the recommendation of Baron Pfeffil, and that he had stated to his Majesty that he had my concurrence in all this. • • *

"Had a call from the Baron Pfeffil; who told me he had received a letter from Baden and that the King of Bavaria was most desirous to possess my picture, and desired that it might be sent immediately to Munich, and that the banker of the Bavarian Court in London should be ordered to pay to me the sum of 4251.; that is, 100/. in addition to the sum I engaged to paint the pic- ture for, and 25/. for the frame.

"Waited upon Sir Thomas Lawrence ; who showed me a letter he had from Sir Brook Taylor, which stated that he had received Sir Thomas's communi- cation from the King respecting my picture ; but as the King of Bavaria had not been at Munich, he had not had any opportunity of mentioning it to hio Majesty, as he thought it a very delicate subject : he could not trust it to be mentioned by any one else, consequently it might still be some days before he could have any opportunity, as his Majesty had not yet returned to Munich, &c. "Received a letter from Sir Thomas Lawrence, enclosing one from Sir Ben- jamin Bloomfield, stating that the King did not wish Mr. Taylor to urge the relinquishment of the picture, unless the King of Bavaria should, upon an in- spection of it, not see so much merit in the work as the description gave him reason to expect. After writing to Sir Thomas in answer, sent to the Baron Pfeffil to tell him that I now fell at full liberty to make over the picture to his Excellency, and would order a packing-case for it immediately. "Received from the Bavarian Minister the sum of 447/. 10e., the price of the picture of The Reading of the WilL" wisnit's NATIONALITY.

Wilkie was a warm but not blind lover of his country; in the sight of Englishmen, indeed, he was regarded as one who half shut his eyes to all other merit save the Caledonians. " Thomson ! ye mann be a Scotch Thomson, pu warrant," said Wilkie to Henry Thomson, as they sat together for the first time at an Academy dinner. "I'm of that ilk, Sir," was his reply ; "my father was a Sootchman." "Was he really?" exclaimed Wilkie, grasping the other's hand quite brotherly; "and my mother was Irish!" "Ay, ay, was she really?" and the hand relaxed its fervour; "and I was born in England." Wilkie let go Thomeon's hand altogether, turned his back on him, and in- dulged in no further conversation. My friend Thomson, a wit as well as a painter, perhaps caricatured this conversation; but I remember it was received as true to the spirit of Wilkie when it was first told.