——"a flower born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air;"
for every man, he considered, would shew what is in him, and do all that his nature has qualified him to do. To those who presumed upon a talent which they did not possess, no man was more severe. It was no uncommon thing with him, if he found in the Antique Academy a young man careless about the accuracy of his lines, and intent only upon giving a finished appearance to his drawing, to cut in, with his sharp thumb nail, a correct outline, and thus spoil, in the opinion of the student, his elaborate work. That the English school of design gained great advantages by his appointment of Keeper of the Academy, cannot be doubted; and, to be convinced of this, it is only necessary to refer to the able works of living artists, Hilton, Etty, Wilkie, Leslie, Mulready, Haydon, Briggs, and others, who were his pupils.
Notwithstanding the variety of his acquisitions, and his profound knowledge in, and love for, literature, his "ruling passion" was the Fine Arts; but he never intruded them as the subject of conversation, unless pressed to do so. He evinced this "ruling passion strong in death;" for, just before his last illness, he had sent two pictures for the then ensuing exhibition of the Royal Academy; the larger one, "A Scene from Comus," finished; the smaller, "Psyche passing the Fates," in an unfinished state, intending, as is the common practice with the Academicians, to glaze and harmonize this picture in the situation where it was to be placed. Its unfinished condition frequently occupied his thoughts during his illness, and he, but two days before his death, spoke of it with great solicitude to Sir Thomas Lawrence, wishing it either to be withdrawn, or that some painter of talents would harmonize it for him. The last work on which his pencil was employed, and on which he painted a few days previously to his death, was a scene from Shakspeare's King John: in this picture, the figure of Lady Constance in particular, is finely designed, and grief is admirably depicted in her countenance; he was painting this for James Carrick Moore, Esq., and it was nearly completed when he died.
The works of art, and the library, which Fuseli left, were disposed of as follows:—His drawings and sketches were purchased at a liberal price, by Sir Thomas Lawrence.[73] The Marquis of Bute, the Countess of Guilford, and other friends, bought pictures and books, at prices named by myself, to a considerable amount, and the remaining pictures, and the sketches in oil, were sold by Mr. Christie, and the prints and books by Mr. Sotheby. A large collection of beautiful drawings, of entomological subjects, chiefly by Mr. Abbot, of Georgia, in North America, a small part of which cost him two hundred guineas, were the only articles reserved, as no sum was offered which was considered as at all adequate to the value of these, which had been Fuseli's favourite study and amusement.
The following is a list of the pictures and drawings exhibited by Fuseli at the Royal Academy, from 1774 to the year 1825 inclusive, making a total of sixty-nine pictures.
1774—The Death of Cardinal Beaufort (a drawing).
1777—A scene in Macbeth.
1780—Ezzelin Bracciaferro musing over Meduna, slain by him for disloyalty during his absence in the Holy Land.—Satan starting from the touch of Ithuriel's lance.—Jason appearing before Pelias, to whom the sight of a man with a single sandal had been predicted fatal.
1781—Dido, "Illa graves oculos, &c." (Æneid 4.)—Queen Katherine's Vision. (Vide Shakspeare's Henry VIII. Act 5.)—A Conversation.