Now my sheet is filled on the strength of my own Glass of Porter—all at a heat. So Good Bye: ever yours, E. F. G.
To S. Laurence.
Market hill: Woodbridge.
April 23/64.
Dear Laurence,
I only got home last Night, from Wiltshire, where I had been to see Miss Crabbe, daughter of the old Vicar whom you remember. I found your two Letters: and then your Box. When I had unscrewed the last Screw, it was as if a Coffin’s Lid were raised; there was the Dead Man. [55] I took him up to my Bedroom; and when morning came, he was there—reading; alive, and yet dead. I am perfectly satisfied with it on the whole; indeed, could only have suggested a very, very, slight alteration, if any. . .
As I passed through London, I saw that wonderful Collection of Rubbish, the late Bishop of Ely’s Pictures; but I fell desperately in Love with a Sir Joshua, a young Lady in white with a blue Sash, and a sweet blue Sky over her sweet, noble, Head; far above Gainsboro’ in its Air and Expression. I see in the Papers that it went for £165; which, if I thought well to give so much for any Picture, I could almost have given, by some means, for such a delightful Work.
Market hill, Woodbridge.
April 27/64.
Dear Laurence,
. . . I will send back the Gainsboro’ copy [56a] at once; I think the Original must be one of the happiest of the Painter’s; while he had Vandyke in his Eye, with whom he was to go to Heaven. [56b] I will not argue how far he was superior to Reynolds in Colour; but in the Air of Dignity and Gentility (in the better Sense) he was surely inferior; it must be so, from the Difference of Character in the two men. Madame D’Arblay (Miss Burney) relates how one day when she was dining with Sir Joshua at Richmond, she chanced to see him looking at her in a peculiar way; she said to him, ‘I know what you are thinking about.’ ‘Ay,’ he said, ‘you may come and sit to me now whenever you please.’ They had often met; but he at last caught the
phase of her which was best; but I don’t think it ever went to Canvas. I don’t think Gainsboro’ could have painted the lovely portrait at the Bishop of Ely’s, slight as it was; Sir Joshua was by much the finer Gentleman; indeed Gainsboro’ was a Scamp.