I have nothing whatever to tell you, except that I have just finished a head of Carlo Perugini (for myself), which is the best thing of the kind I ever did. It has not interfered with my picture, but has stopped up unavoidable gaps. I have got H. Wilson[54] to teach me the Conture Method—à fin d'avoir taté à tout. Conture paints well in spite of his method, which might easily lead to superficial mannerism. The best dodge is to be a devil of a clever fellow.
Will you do me a great favour—for my friend Hébert, to whom I am under great obligations? If you can get me for him any Greek classic (if Homer, all the better) in the same edition as my Brumek's Anacreon with Latin notes, I shall be much obliged. Hébert wants very much to have any such work.
Translation.]
21 Rue Pigalle, Paris,
Saturday, September 29, 1855.
My very dear Friend,—At last I find the long-desired opportunity to send you the photographs; our old Gamba has undertaken to convey them to you. How I envy him the pleasure of seeing you again, dear Master! You, on your side, will certainly have great pleasure in seeing your old pupil again. He is just the same as ever; rather more of a beard, and broader shouldered, but still quite the old Gamba. He will be able to tell you that we have cherished your memory with love and reverence, and are always proud to call ourselves your pupils.
I should like to describe to you what I am painting now, but the subject I have chosen is such an absolute matter of sentiment, that your imagination might well paint something quite different, in comparison with which my picture might subsequently suffer; I would rather wait until I can send you a photograph. It is a picture with only four figures, but life-size. I stand in alarm before the blank canvas. One learns gradually to understand that one really can do nothing.
The photographs in the portofolio with my writing on them are yours; I hope they will please you. You must accept them as a little memento of my Italian hobbledehoy-hood.
Remember me respectfully to Madame Steinle, to my other friends "tante cose."
Keep me in remembrance.—Your grateful pupil,
Fred Leighton.