“I have for many years given up the theatre (not going above once or twice in the year), but this fine genius has drawn me often to it, and each time to witness improvement and new beauties. If she is not taken from the stage, there is probability that she may remain on it a fine actress for twenty years, and thus have supported the ascendency of one family in the highest department of the drama for upwards of twenty years!”
HOAXING LAWRENCE.
Mr. John Bernard, in his “Retrospections of the Stage,” gives the following anecdote of Lawrence’s cleverness in sketching likenesses at the early age of nine years:—
“The young artist collected his materials very quickly, and essayed my visage the first. In about ten minutes he produced a faithful delineation in crayon, which for many years I kept as a curiosity. He next attempted Edwin’s, who, startled at the boy’s ability, resolved (in his usual way) to perplex him. This he did by changing the form of his features—raising his brows, compressing his lips, and widening his mouth. Tom no sooner perceived the change than he started in supreme wonder, attributing it to a defect in his own vision. The first outline was accordingly abandoned, and a second commenced. Tom was now more particular, and watched him narrowly; but Edwin, feature by feature, and muscle by muscle, so completely ran, what might be called the gamut of his countenance (as the various compartments of its harmony), that the boy drew and rubbed it out, till his hand fell by his side, and he stood silently looking in Edwin’s face, to discover, if possible, its true expression. Edwin could not long maintain his composure at his scrutiny, and revealed the hoax with a burst of merriment and mimic thunder.”
FUSELI’S ENVY.
In Lawrence’s great picture of “Satan addressing the Fallen Angels,” Fuseli complained that the figure of Satan was his own—that Lawrence had copied some one of his designs. The following account of the matter, however, was given by Lawrence in a conversation with Cunningham, and seems a sufficient explanation:—
“Fuseli, sir, was the most satirical of human beings; he had also the greatest genius for art of any man I ever knew. His mind was so essentially poetic that he was incapable of succeeding in any ordinary object, That figure of Satan, now before you, occasioned the only interruption which our friendship of many years’ standing ever experienced. He was, you know, a great admirer of Milton, from whom he had many sketches. When he first saw my Satan, he was nettled, and said, ‘You borrowed the idea from me!—‘In truth, I did take the idea from you,’ I said; ‘but it was from your person, not from your paintings. When we were together at Stackpole Court, in Pembrokeshire, you may remember how you stood on yon high rock which overlooks the bay of Bristol, and gazed down upon the sea, which rolls so magnificently below. You were in raptures; and while you were crying “Grand! Grand! Jesu Christ, how grand! how terrific!” you put yourself in a wild posture. I thought on the devil looking into the abyss, and took a slight sketch of you at the moment: here it is. My Satan’s posture now, was yours then.’”
HIS PROFESSIONAL PRACTICE.
Allan Cunningham gives the following description of the habits and practice of the great artist:—
“He rose early, and he worked late; for though no one excelled more in rapid sketches, he had a true enthusiasm for his art, and would not dismiss hastily anything for which he was to be paid as a picture. He detained his sitters often for three hours at a time; had generally eight or nine of these sittings; and all the while studied their looks anxiously, and seemed to do nothing without care and consideration. His constant practice was to begin by making a drawing of the head, full-size, on canvas, carefully tracing in dimensions and expression. This took up one day; on the next he began to paint—touching in the brows, the nose, the eyes, and the mouth, and finally the bounding line, in succession. Lawrence sometimes, nay often, laid aside the first drawing of a head, and painted on a copy. This was from his fear of losing the benefit of first impressions, which in such cases are often invaluable. It may be added that he stood all the while, and was seldom so absorbed in his undertaking that he did not converse with his sitter, and feel either seriousness or humour, whilst giving thought to the brow, or beauty to the cheek. He adhered to the old rule of receiving half payment at the beginning of a portrait.