Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2088 page)

“February 1st. — How much better informed should I be at this moment, if I had written down all the observations I have heard from the painters with whom I have conversed — at least a selection. This should be done as soon after the impression as possible; otherwise, there is danger of making them your own.

“Saturday, 5th. — Received notice from Young, of Lady Lucas having purchased my ‘Town Miss.’ Went to see Kean, in
Shylock,
in the evening. He appears to be fully aware of what the
public
likes in an actor, rather than determined to do what
he<
thinks right. Does this proceed from modesty, policy, or weakness? His voice is good; his figure too short — he has too much of Cook. The farce (‘Rogues All’) was justly damned — Elliston did much towards this — he was worse than impudent. Monday 7th. — Went to the Gallery with Deval. Painted in the morning; which I am now sure is the better plan, as I feel too idle to work, upon my return from any walk, except the walk before breakfast. 9th. — Young called to say he had sold my ‘Sale of the Pet Lamb,’ to W. Ogden, Esq. Fuseli’s lecture in the evening — never more delighted than on hearing it.

“From the observations I made, and the hints I received at the British Gallery, on Friday and Saturday, I perceive the following:- A tameness, or want of spirit in the general appearance of my landscape — ’Forenoon’ — occasioned, I am afraid, by the want of attention to the general effect — as when close it looks well enough. Too much attention bestowed upon things comparatively easy to paint, as the docks, old trees, &c. a want of connection between the sky and ground, or principal light. Owen observed that the painting was not equal, as the docks were too highly wrought for the distant trees, as well as for those not so far removed from the eye: he thought the foreground too minutely finished. Linnell thought the sunlight affected only the principal light, and that the trunks of the trees in particular had not the sharpness of sunlight. I think him right in insisting upon the necessity of making studies — without much reference to form — of the way in which colours come against each other. The sharpness and colour of the shades, as well as the local colours of objects, may be got in this way. Havell disliked the touchiness of the trees — thought they should be flatter in their masses; and the light, shade, and reflections, attended to. On the masses of leaves the green in some places too much of a pea-colour. My own critique upon the picture is, that I have certainly left all my other works behind in point of negative tint — although the greens are still too positive — that there is a want of opposition, approaching to monotony — and that there are (as Callcott once before told me of a picture I had painted) too many large, unbroken masses.

“I feel the necessity of looking at
generals,
as I conceive I have only arrived at the power of painting
particulars.
But, although I am not quite sure which I ought to have done first, yet I am inclined to think that, knowing what I do of
particulars,
I shall not make my
generals
too indefinite — and, in addition to this, I know more exactly what I want, as well as more how to value it when I get it.

“Those who never particularise, are apt to build entirely upon their general knowledge (which, after all, is only a slight knowledge of particulars); and those who never look to the
generals,
are not aware of their consequence. Both are wrong; and each from pure vanity ridicules the other.

“A painter should choose those subjects with which most people associate pleasant circumstances. It is not sufficient that a scene pleases
him.
As an extreme instance of this; the mere appreciation of the delight he felt at getting up at four o’clock to study Nature, will present itself, whenever
he
sees a picture painted so well as to indicate that period of the day, when the very same circumstances of a beautifully clear morning, etc., may recall, in the general spectator, only the disagreeable remembrance of being called up to go a journey in a stage-coach — or, to others, the uncomfortable recollection of having been obliged to get up, because they could not sleep. * * * March 2nd. — Rose at half-past seven; walked, for the first time this season, before breakfast. My pictures want a lightness in drawing and touch — objects too much detached — a lightness of hand quite necessary. * * * Heard this evening of Munroe’s death — poor fellow, to be snatched away from his parents and the Art, at a time when he could least be spared! I should think he must have been about two-and-twenty. Can it be doubted that his parents will be compensated by Providence for their sufferings? Do not these things happen for the purpose of convincing us that we ought to have something to fly to in our greatest miseries? Can his parents, at this moment, derive any alleviation from anything, but a hope that his better part is not annihilated?

“* * * 12th. — Went to see Kean’s
‘Hamlet,’
and had great reason to think most favourably of it. The nature without vulgarity, or affectation, which he displayed throughout the part, came home to the feelings. His crawling upon the carpet in the play-scene was bad. His kissing
Ophelia’s
hand, his forgetting and recollection of the speech about Pyrrhus, &c., prove him to be a man of genius, — (notwithstanding, I prefer the purity of Kemble.) His walk on the stage is, I think, rather mean; but he improves most rapidly. 21st. — Flaxman’s last lecture; his best. More thinking in it. * * * April 5th. — This evening my two pictures were removed to Somerset-house. I think it necessary to get the outline of my figures completely determined, before I venture to paint them. Sometimes, when a part is well coloured and decently painted, I am under the dreadful necessity of erasing it, because it is too small, or too large, or has some other defect in the drawing. The whole figure ought to be completely determined on, at the first, or second sitting; after which the parts may be successfully studied.

“The waving line and graceful playfulness of the joints of children, closely imitated, would immortalise the painter who should persevere in his observations on them — which he may,
ad infinitum.

“Sparkle may be obtained without glazing. Linnell’s observations, with respect to the warmth of objects, against the cold sky — always opposite the sun — is perfectly correct.

“Proportion of the parts is a quality my pictures have never yet possessed in a proper degree.

“The figures in my pictures do not induce the spectator to think I know what is under the clothing. (Haydon.) I saw a picture, this evening, of a lady, as large as life, where the head was not large enough for a girl of ten years old. Should I have observed this in a work of my own?

* * * April 25th. — Went to Spring-gardens, to see Haydon’s picture of “The Judgment of Solomon.” In this most extraordinary production, there is everything for which the Venetian school is so justly celebrated; with this difference only, that Haydon has considered other qualities equally necessary. Most men who have arrived at such excellence in colour, have seemed to think they had done enough; but with Haydon it was evidently the signal of his desire to have every greatness of every other school. Hence, he lays siege to the drawing and expression of Nature, which, in this picture, he has certainly carried from, and in the very face of, all his competitors. Of the higher qualities of Art are, certainly, the tone of the whole picture; the delicate variety of colour; the exquisite sentiment in the mother bearing off her children; and the consciousness of Solomon in the efficacy of his demonstration of the real mother. In short, Haydon deserves the praise of every real artist for having proved that it is possible (which, by the way, I never doubted,) to add all the beauties of colour and tone, to the grandeur of the most sublime subject, without diminishing the effect upon the heart. Haydon has done all this; and produced, upon the whole, the most perfect modern picture I ever saw; and that at the age of seven-and-twenty!

“30th. — The Marquis of Lansdowne desires to know the price of my ‘Bird-catchers.’ I wrote him the terms one hundred guineas (including frame). Sunday morning I received his polite note, agreeing to give me that sum. I do not think I was ever so much gratified by the sale of a picture, as in this instance.

* * * Sentiment in pictures can only be produced by a constant attention to the food given to the painter’s mind. A proper dignity and respect for one self is the only shield against the loathsomeness of vulgarity.

“The habit of determining the course of action would prevent a great waste of time. In every ungratified desire, the mind is so worried by the continuance of doubts on both sides, that a complete debility ensues; the consequence of which is an uncertainty in all its speculations. What renders this still more vexing is, that, in general, the things about which it has the greatest doubt, are either above its powers, or beneath its notice. For an instance of the latter: a man orders a coat — he is in doubt about the colour — perhaps, he says, I will wait a few days. During these few days the cursed coat so frequently interrupts his more useful cogitations, that he orders one at last of, most likely, a colour he hates, merely to get rid of the subject. Had he, in the first instance, determined upon it before he set about anything else, his mind would have been in a more clear and proper state to receive other ideas. This would soon become a habit, and he would acquire a power, from necessity, of fixing his attention.

* * * *

“November 7th. — The election at the Academy, (at which, I afterwards heard, I was chosen an Associate.) Sketched at home in the evening — felt too anxious about my election to do much. 8th. — Received notice from the Secretary of my election. 12th. — To aim greatly at reformation in the leading features of my private character — the little weaknesses that almost escape detection, and which, notwithstanding their pettiness, seem to be the obstructing cause to all dignity of character in an artist, or a man. This improvement is not to be made by ridiculous and hasty resolutions, but by private reflections. The result, and not the means, ought to be seen. 16th. — Received notice to attend the Council of the Royal Academy, on Tuesday 22nd, at nine o’clock in the evening, for the purpose of receiving my diploma, and signing the instrument of institution. 17th. — From the great success I have met with, the eagerness I feel to deserve it, and my struggles against sluggishness, I never was more confused in my intellects than now — dreadful want of confidence — my mind must be weeded — method quite necessary — good habits may be gained by watchfulness — bad habits grow of themselves; good ones require cultivation. * * * December 3rd. — Remarkably dark day. This circumstance combined with the interruptions occasioned by some callers, and my own idleness, produced a great want of exertion on my part. Having taken snuff occasionally, since Tuesday last, and finding it hurtful, I again leave it off. Should I take any more, I will set down my reasons for so doing — bad, or good.

“Suppose the mind (vital principle, director of the body, or whatever else it may be called) obliged to pass through, or make use of certain organs, to the end that it may attain some purpose — suppose these organs in a morbid state, will the operations be sound? Certainly not. No more so than the attempt will be successful of a man who wishes to go a journey on foot and breaks one of his legs by the way. Then, how clearly does the necessity appear of doing as much as is in our power to keep these organs in the most perfect state. What excuse has the man to offer, who suffers them, or occasions them to be, in an unfit condition for the use of the mind?”

Such are the passages in the Diary of 1814, most worthy of attention. Those entries of a purely personal nature which have been inserted here, have not been introduced without a reason. It has been considered that they may contribute to vindicate genius from the conventional accusations of arrogance and irregularity, which are too frequently preferred against it, by demonstrating, in the instance and from the reflections of the subject of this biography, that the eager desire for fame may exist, without the slightest alloy of presumption; and that an ardent devotion to an intellectual pursuit, is not incompatible with the minutest attention to the moral cultivation of the heart, and the social training of the mind.

The painter’s circle of friends now began to widen. Men of genius and reputation sought his acquaintance, and found his qualifications for society of no mean order. A plan of reading, various and extensive; an unwearied anxiety to receive and impart information on all subjects, from his Art downwards and upwards; and a fund of anecdote and capacity for humour, not easily exhaustible, fitted him well for the general topics discussed among the circles to which he was now welcomed. Among the gayest of his companions, at this period, were that “joyousest of once embodied spirits” — Elliston, and that inveterate jester and capital writer, James Smith; both of whom found in the artist’s company no mean stimulus to conversational exertion; for when the ball of wit was once set going, it was rarely suffered to drop in Mr. Collins’s hands. As an humble example of this should the incident not appear too trifling an anecdote may be mentioned, not unworthy, perhaps, to take its place among the laconic curiosities that enliven our jest-books.