Closely connected indeed with this excitability was his appreciation of fun and even good-humoured mischief, and his power of entering into interests, trivial or sportive in themselves. He would take trouble and show eagerness, even in the amusements of his home circle, and be anxious that they should be carried out in the best possible way. And, even to the last, he preserved much of the impulsive freshness and youthfulness of his character, without any sign of the narrowing and chilling influence of age.
But these qualities in him were not exaggerated into exclusive prominence. The imaginative and the practical, the powers of sanguine impulse and prudential action in detail, were remarkably blended in his mind. Thus he was on the one hand emphatically an artist. Before all things he placed the power of imagination and creation, the sense of beauty, and the reverence for Art which could minister to that sense, in all the forms which it assumed, in painting, sculpture, and music, as well as in architecture. I think indeed that he required the æsthetic influence to clothe itself in visible artistic form; for the beauty of Nature in itself, and the forms of the imagination clothed merely in the words of poetry, were not the influences which laid strongest hold upon his mind. But the claims of Art were paramount, and the realisation of what was beautiful in it was to him the chief good, independent of all other results. Yet, on the other hand, he was emphatically a “man of business;” he had all the power of quick practical observation, clearness and decision in details, willingness to accept the necessity of prosaic work and drudgery, which belong to this character. The two elements in his mind harmonized, and did not clash with each other.
In the same way he was impulsive and almost rash, in the ventures he would make, and the risks he would run. The spirit of “speculation” might easily have been developed in him, even to a dangerous prominence. Difficulties he not only made light of, but he was often incapable of perceiving their full force, if it would have been fatal to a cherished idea. Yet in his execution of his schemes he could bring into play the powers of good sense, caution, and watchfulness, to make sure of every step, and to prevent divergence into the shadowy regions of the impracticable.
The same union of balancing elements of character was seen in regard of external influence upon him. His mind was certainly original, and his resolution and will most determined. Yet to external influences, direct and indirect, even to the tone of feeling and character of those who were with him, he was as certainly sensitive. Suggestion or criticism, warning or encouragement, he readily, almost unconsciously, took in, and seemed to assimilate, till they formed a part of his own mind. In respect of his own art, however, this susceptibility to external influence produced no inconsistency, for its results were fused under the power of his original conception, and therefore, while they prevented anything fantastic and whimsical, they did not weaken the vigour which belongs to self-reliance. In fact it was one of the causes of that progressiveness of mind, which was always remarked in him, and to which allusion has already been made. He had a firm grasp of certain great principles; therefore he had the power to appreciate and to assimilate knowledge, from whatever sources it came. He was fettered by no system of rules; therefore he had the elasticity of mind, without which it is impossible to profit by external influence and teaching. To the last he confessed himself a learner. Sometimes, indeed, he would take up some new idea suggested from without, with characteristic eagerness, and begin to develope from it inferences, which were to yield a new store of first principles. But when these first principles were carefully scanned, they were found to be “old friends under a new face;” and so the new modification was accepted, while the essential ideas remained substantially the same. His works, accordingly, though they showed progressiveness, were always characteristic, and had a certain unity, which no competent eye can fail to discern.
Much indeed of his success and his power of influence depended on this union of apparently opposite elements, on this absence of one-sidedness and distortion of character. It was not produced in him by the deepening and enlarging influence of abstract study. Even in his own art his knowledge was gained mainly by experience, and he studied best with the pencil in his hand. But in other fields of thought, he had in him very little of the student. His interest indeed was wide and keen enough, but it showed itself in quickness of observation and intuition, rather than in any profound study. Even from politics he to a great extent stood aloof, though he was consistently attached to the Liberal party, and his mind was certainly more innovating than conservative. Science (as has been said) interested him far more than literature. Had he not been distinguished as an artist, he might well have made himself a name in mechanical science, in which his great fertility of contrivance, his love of enterprise, and his tendency to set aside stereotyped systems and conventional rules, would have found a congenial field of exercise.
By this temperament, naturally buoyant and elastic, by the power of a disposition warm-hearted and capable of enthusiasm, by his remarkable determination of will, when once his mind was made up, and by the fact that, before he had come to a determination, he was singularly open to suggestion, by the resolution never to put up, even in little things, with what was defective or erroneous, he mostly prevailed. Clients, colleagues, even superiors, generally let him have his own way; for they felt that his determination was at least conscientious and disinterested. In his professional work especially, although he made mistakes and miscalculations, which might cause hardship, and sometimes, it may be, practical injustice, his determination was sustained by an integrity above all suspicion. Architects and engineers, dealing with large sums, the expenditure of which they alone are able to control or criticize, are frequently exposed to solicitation, and even temptation, to relax vigilance and show personal favour at the expense of justice. Even a high rank in the profession does not secure men against the exertion of this influence, and few young beginners are spared the experience of it. It is well that, especially at the present time, the profession at large stands strong in known integrity, though the exercise of the vigilance and determination, which it requires, is often a thankless work. Of that integrity Sir Charles Barry did his duty in setting an example. Though he had many enemies, none even ventured on a breath of slander in this respect.
That he was ambitious cannot be questioned. There are two kinds of ambition; there is the desire of glory in itself, which seems to be its lower form; we find a higher ambition in the desire of doing something, which is not unworthy of glory, whether it obtains it or not. I think he felt both strongly. For praise and reputation are the chief secondary rewards of an artistic life, the compensation for foregoing the more material returns, which can be best obtained in other walks of life. But he lived long enough to feel, what all experience of life teaches, the capricious manner in which such reward is bestowed, and the insufficiency of it, even when it is obtained in the fullest measure. At no time would he have sacrificed to it the higher ambition of doing that which was artistically the best, though it might draw down a storm of unpopularity and censure. Whenever the lower ambition is thus clearly subordinated, it must be regarded as an instinct of humanity, capable of giving force and life to the character, without the excitability and selfishness which mark its exclusive predominance.
The whole remembrance of his life is therefore one of work, simplicity, geniality, and vigour, guided by a conscientious devotion to duty, and kindled by a never-failing enthusiasm. Without these qualities, his artistic feeling, his power of origination and enterprise, and his genius for design, must have failed in the work and trials of life.
His personal appearance was a fair index of his character. The frontispiece, and the statue in the New Palace at Westminster, show the remarkably fine head, which indicated intellectual and artistic power, and the strong and almost sturdy figure, which was no bad type of his determination of character; but they cannot show the mobility of his expression, or that quick lighting up of the whole face, showing his delight in fun and warm geniality of feeling, which in his younger days aided the impression of his handsome features and bright complexion, and at all times gave a remarkable charm to his manner. He was one of those men who hardly seem to grow old. He came within five years of our “three score years and ten,” and yet he seemed young still, and it was almost impossible to connect with him the idea of weakness or decay.
But, when the last stone of the Victoria Tower was laid, when the flagstaff to surmount it was all but ready, his work was done, and his career drew to its close.