CANDID OPINION.
Mr. Leslie relates the following anecdote:—
“Chantrey told me that on one of his visits to Oxford, Professor Buckland said to him ‘If you will come to me, you shall hear yourself well abused.’ He had borrowed a picture of Bishop Heber, from the Hall of New College, to make a statue from; and having kept it longer than he had promised, the woman who showed the Hall was very bitter against him. ‘There is no dependence,’ she said, ‘to be placed on that Chantrey. He is as bad as Sir Thomas Lawrence, who has served me just the same; there is not a pin to choose between them.’ She pointed to the empty frame, and said, ‘It is many a shilling out of my pocket, the picture not being there; they make a great fuss about that statue of——’ (mentioning one by Chantrey, that had lately been sent to one of the colleges), ‘but we have one by Bacon, which, in my opinion, is twice as good. When Chantrey’s statue came, I had ours washed; I used a dozen pails of water, and I am sure I made it look a great deal better than his.’ He took out a five-shilling piece, and putting it into her hand, but without letting it go, said, ‘Look at me, and tell me whether I look like a very bad man.’ ‘Lord, no, sir.’ ‘Well, then, I am that Chantrey you are so angry with.’ She seemed somewhat disconcerted; but quickly recovering herself, replied, ‘And if you are, sir, I have said nothing but what is true,’ and he resigned the money into her hand.”
FASHION.
On one occasion, at a dinner party, he was placed nearly opposite his wife at table, at the time when very large and full sleeves were worn, of which Lady C. had a very fashionable complement; and the sculptor perceived that a gentleman sitting next to her was constrained to confine his arms, and shrink into the smallest dimensions, lest he should derange the superfluous attire. Chantrey, observing this, addressed him thus: “Pray, sir, do not inconvenience yourself from the fear of spoiling those sleeves, for that lady is my wife; those sleeves are mine, and as I have paid for them, you are at perfect liberty to risk any injury your personal comfort may cause to those prodigies of fashion!” Also, noticing a lady with sleeves curiously cut, he affected to think the slashed openings were from economical motives, and said, “What a pity the dressmaker should have spoiled your sleeves! It was hardly worth while to save such a little bit of stuff.”
CONSTABLE (JOHN), R.A.
JOHN CONSTABLE, born in Suffolk, in the year 1776, passed his infancy in a beautifully rural country, the scenery of which he was in love with to the day of his death. His predilection for the art was developed before he reached the age of sixteen. Mrs. Constable procured for her son an introduction to Sir George Beaumont. Sir George had expressed himself much pleased with the youth’s pen-and-ink copies. He was sent to pursue his studies in London; and in 1799, writing to a friend, he says:—
“I paint by all the daylight we have, and there is little enough. I sometimes see the sky; but imagine to yourself how a pearl must look through a burnt glass. I employ my evenings in making drawings and in reading, and I hope by the former to clear my rent. If I can, I shall be very happy. Our friend Smith has offered to take any of my pictures into his shop for sale. He is pleased to find I am reasonable in my prices.”
Again, in Leslie’s memoirs of the artist we have the following memorandum of Constable:—