George III. sat to him for the presentation picture to the Royal Academy. Sir Joshua had not as much time now as formerly for his summer excursions, whether in England or abroad. He spent most of the day in his painting-room, or in attending to his numerous duties as P.R.A. In the evening he gave himself up more or less to social enjoyment, dining out constantly at clubs or private houses, or presiding at his own table at those convivial banquets, where oftentimes half a dozen guests were expected and a dozen appeared, and where verily the feast of reason and the flow of soul made up for the scarcity of the servants, knives, forks, plates, and such minor details.
In that dining-room were gathered all the intellect and wit of the town; and its noble master presided calmly, taking an interest in all that came within the range of his ear-trumpet. Leicester Square was in the centre of the disturbed district at the time of the Gordon Riots, and the noise and hubbub were painfully audible to the painter’s impaired hearing, and for a time interfered with the visits of his fair sitters. On St. George’s Day 1770, Sir Joshua presided at the first Royal Academy banquet, a festivity which was spoiled for many of the guests by the announcement that the boy-poet Chatterton had committed suicide.
In the ensuing year Reynolds was summoned to Windsor Castle to witness the installation of nine Knights of the Garter, all of whom (with the exception of two foreign Princes) had been immortalised by his pencil. Northcote tells us that on this occasion Sir Joshua lost his laced hat and gold watch in the crowd close to the Royal precincts,—a circumstance which excited little astonishment in days when a boat containing ladies and gentlemen from Vauxhall was boarded by masked highwaymen!
A delightful addition was made in 1771 to the Leicester Square household, in the person of his pretty niece, Theophila Palmer; and two years later she was joined by her sister, Mary, adding that element of youth, beauty, and good spirits which were most acceptable to Sir Joshua himself and to all his guests. A sad blow was in store for him in the death of his valued friend David Garrick, who was taken ill when on a visit to Lord Spencer at Althorp, and only returned to London to die. The whole Faculty put forth their skill to save this darling of the public, this cherished member of private society; but in vain. Garrick’s humour never forsook him; when almost at the point of death, he drew a friend near him, and, pointing to the crowd of doctors in the room, whispered these words from the ‘Fair Penitent’—
‘Another and another still succeeds,
And the last fool is welcome as the former.’
David Garrick’s funeral was a pageant. The procession included every name remarkable for talent, rank, celebrity of all kinds and classes. But amidst that crowd of mourners few could have grieved more deeply than the actor’s fast friend, Joshua Reynolds.
He was indeed a good friend, and was much interested in the unhappy Angelica Kauffmann, whom he assisted in the dissolution of her marriage with her first husband, a swindler and an impostor. We find by his pocket-book that she sat twice to him, and in exchange she afterwards painted the P.R.A. for Mr. Parker of Saltram. There was a rumour that the painter’s heart was touched by the charms of the paintress. But Joshua was evidently not very susceptible; he was an inveterate club man, and was immensely popular, from the geniality and cordiality of his manners, as also (it was whispered) from the badness of his whist-playing. He was elected for the Dilettanti Club in 1766, and his picture of the assembled members was greatly admired, and added considerably to his fame.
In 1782 the great painter had a paralytic seizure, though of a mild nature, and he soon recovered sufficient energy to continue his labours, with, if possible, increased diligence, finishing and exhibiting some of his noblest works after this premonitory warning. In 1784 Samuel Johnson was stricken down by the same terrible disease, but in a much more aggravated form, leaving little hope of his recovery. He had lost the power of speech for a time, and his first efforts at returning articulation were to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, and an earnest supplication that his intellect might be spared to the last, together with a summons to his dear Joshua,—the loved companion of so many pleasant excursions, of so many jovial and intellectual gatherings,—of whom he took a tender farewell. The dying man made three requests in that solemn moment: that Reynolds would paint no more on Sundays; that he would invariably read his Bible on that day, and other days besides; and that he would cancel the debt of £30 which he (Johnson) owed him.
The relations between Gainsborough and Reynolds had never been very friendly; but when the first-mentioned painter was on his deathbed, he also sent for Sir Joshua, who says: ‘In those solemn moments all little jealousies were forgotten, and he recognised in me one whose tastes and pursuits were in common with his own, and of whose works he approved.’ It should be remembered that when Gainsborough heard some one disparaging Sir Joshua’s talent, he spoke up gallantly, and said, ‘For myself, I consider his worst pictures superior to the best of any other painter;’ and words nearly to the same effect, on the same subject, are recorded of Romney. Reynolds himself, being attacked on the score of his portraits fading, laughed, and said good-humouredly, ‘Well, you must confess at all events that I have come off with flying colours.’ On the death of Ramsay, the Court painter, the post was offered to Sir Joshua, but it required the united persuasions of his friends to induce him to accept the office.