[27] It is amusing to see how Wilkie puts the Scotchman first in this note, and of a piece with that story of his having, when a “hanger” of one of the Royal Academy exhibitions, actually filled the “line,” or best part of the whole wall-space in the best room, with pictures by Scotch artists. This piece of injustice was too shameless to be allowed to stand, so when Wilkie’s fellow “hangers” discovered the attempted trick, he was told, “This will never do, we must change all this;” and that was done. At another time Wilkie was observed to be carrying a picture through the rooms, and trying to fix it into one place after another, always proceeding from a good to a better position, until attention was attracted by his earnestness, and the question asked, why he was so anxious to promote the work in question. “Oh,” he replied, with exquisite sang-froid, “It’s Geddes’s!”
[28] Etty’s pictures of this year were, 59, “The Blue Beetle; Portraits:” 232, “Portrait of the Rev. W. Jay of Bath;” 320, “Ajax Telamon;” and, 375, “A Study.”
[29] The “Elymas” was not one of the Cartoons exhibited in 1818, the two shown in that year being “The Beautiful Gate” and “Christ’s Charge to Peter.” “Elymas” appeared in 1817.
[30] At a later date, when appointments were given to Dyce and others to superintend the Schools of Design, Haydon—who believed himself not only the originator of all modern English movements for promoting the Fine Arts, but the one competent authority respecting them—was bitterly indignant that he was not invited to accept the directorship of the new institution. He asserted the peculiar incompetence of Dyce, and spoke very frankly of his colleagues. See Haydon’s “Correspondence,” 1876, ii., p. 475. No doubt Haydon rightly estimated his own powers in this respect; his real vocation was teaching, which was at that time a faculty rarer than it is now, when we are by no means overstocked with good teachers, practical or literary, in art. He was never so happy as when giving technical counsel, or in lecturing; his published “Lectures” are probably the most practical and potent of their class.
[31] On Mr. Charles Christmas, Sir Edwin’s brother-in-law, see “Notes and Queries,” 5th series, XII. 383. By this it appears that he was an animal painter, who, discovering the superiority of E. Landseer in that line, gave up the race. There were two brothers of this name, Thomas and Charles, (see before). The latter was not a painter, but, we believe, an architect.
[32] The phrase, “lay-element” is already, 1880, passing out of recognition; when this book was formerly published it was in vogue, and understood to refer to those gentlemen who were willing to share the honours of the Royal Academicians; conferring, in return, the prestige which was due to their “distinguished social position and love of art.” These persons were the “lay-element” of the Commission of the Royal Academy. See “Report,” 1864.
[33] Our readers will recollect that, owing to the protest of Sir Edwin Landseer and others, the idiotic practice has abated of cropping from dogs’ ears those flaps which kindly nature placed to keep earth from the organs of earth-burrowing creatures.
[34] Since Landseer’s death this house and studio have been occupied by Mr. H. W. B. Davis, R.A.
[35] This example of extraordinary facility in artistic work may be paralleled, if not surpassed, by the feat which Smith, in his “Nollekens,” ii. p. 143 relates of Sherwin, who engraved, in four days (!), the fine plate from the portrait of the Earl of Carlisle, now at Castle Howard, by Romney. Sherwin engraved Mrs. (“Perdita”) Robinson’s portrait at once upon the copper, without a drawing.
[36] “Art Journal,” where the picture is represented by an engraving.