Pall Mall Gazette, July 28, 1891.
Sir,—May I request that you allow me to make known, through your influential paper, the fact that the canvas, now shown as a completed work of mine, at Messrs. Dowdeswell's, representing three draped figures in a conservatory, is a painting long ago barely begun, and thrown aside for destruction?
Also I am in no way responsible for the taste of the frame with its astonishments of plush! and varied gildings.
I think it not only just to myself to make this statement, but right that the public should be warned against the possible purchase of a picture in no way representative, and, in its actual condition, absolutely worthless.—I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
Chelsea, July 27, 1891.
Mr. Whistler "had on his own Toast"
TO THE EDITOR:
Sir,—I have read with interest Mr. Whistler's letter in your issue of July 28. I happened to be at Messrs. Dowdeswell's galleries the other Pall Mall Gazette, Aug. 1, 1891. day and saw the picture he refers to. It was not on public exhibition, but was in one of their private rooms, and was brought out for my inspection à propos of a conversation we were having. Now, so far from Messrs. Dowdeswell showing it as a "completed work," they distinctly spoke of it as unfinished; nor can I imagine any one acquainted with Mr. Whistler's works speaking of any of them as "completed!" In "L'Envoi" of the catalogue of his exhibition held at Messrs. Dowdeswell's a short time ago I find the following paragraph from his pen:—"The work of the master reeks not of the sweat of the brow—suggests no effort—and is finished from its beginning." The only inference possible is either that Mr. Whistler is not a master, or that the work is finished! He has, however, spent what time he could spare from his literary labours in endeavouring to induce the world to believe that the slightest scratch from his pen is worthy to rank with "Las Lanzas," and I am therefore surprised to learn that he has altered his opinion. Still, I quite agree with him when he tells us that some of his work is "absolutely worthless!"—I am, sir, more in sorrow than in anger, your obedient servant,
W. C.