[48] Watts wrote at the time Leighton died that he had enjoyed an uninterrupted friendship with him of forty-five years. This was evidently a slight miscalculation. We read in one of Leighton's letters to his mother from Rome that Watts had called on him, but that he had missed seeing him, and Watts certainly spoke to me of this interview on the pavement of Montagu Square in 1855 as the first he had had with Leighton.
[49] In a letter from his mother, December 22, 1854, she quotes an extract from the Morning Post, written by a critic who had been visiting the studios in Rome, and who alludes to Leighton's sympathy with Giotto. It reads to-day as quaint and curiously antiquated as do Knight's scornful criticisms on the Elgin Marbles. Mrs. Leighton writes: "One sentence in your letter has set your dear father on the horns of anxiety. You tell us we are not to expect too much from your pictures, and remind us 'that the path which leads to success, &c. &c.' Now, Papa fancies that you had underpainted your canvas and were not satisfied with the result, and that was the cause of your writing less hopefully than usual. We have been wishing much to hear what your progress was; knowing the subject of each picture, we should have understood if you had reported progress. In case you are in want of a little encouragement, I must tell you the other day Papa enters the drawing-room with a radiant face. He held in his hand a piece of paper, and requesting my attention, he read me its contents, which I copy for you, and which I found were taken from a column in the Morning Post devoted to criticisms on artists and their works chiefly, I believe, on the Continent, but of that I am not quite sure. 'I next called on Mr. Leighton, who is employed on a canvas of many feet. His subject is'—then follows the description, after which he adds: 'Mr. Leighton will become a great artist if he advances as he has begun. His drawing is admirable, much better than that of English artists generally. Some of the figures are Giottoish in the treatment of the drapery, which is scarcely pardonable, because drapery fell flowingly about the human body in Giotto's time as well as now. Why imitate the uncomfortable line of that conventional rag? It is, however, unfair to judge of anything beyond drawing and composition in the present state of this picture, which is an extraordinary work for so young a man.' Remarks more or less favourable were made on several other artists, but nothing like what you have just read. Do you know this critic? I need not tell you how highly we appreciate this gentleman's sagacity; but jokes apart, Papa was rather puzzled at such a criticism about the drapery of some of the figures, because you excel in such folds, so it seems to us odd that you should skimp any of your figures. The same column contains observations on the subject of 'High Art' and large historical pictures, or rather comments on those made by young students, such indeed as I have heard you make, that I could almost have fancied the author was answering your remarks. We were rather startled to read in your letter that you find you had better not use the interests of a professional man to facilitate the admission of your picture into the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, but trust to its merits for that result, as we are told the Exhibition in question is, strictly speaking, a private affair for the works of the members only and such as they choose to admit, which explains perhaps the complaints of rejection one has read of from time to time. I hope your picture may be kindly judged and well hung."
[50] On a first visit to Athens I was struck by the extraordinary insignificance and want of beauty in the Levantines of mixed race who crowded the streets; nowhere seemed there a trace left among the inhabitants of the town of the type of Greek beauty. When travelling a few days later to Colonna, while the train stopped at a station on the lower slopes of Hymettus, I saw two men hurrying through the adjacent olive groves to catch it. They were dressed in the Greek costume of the provinces—an embroidered waistcoat cut low leaving the throat bare, the short white plaited skirt, and the heavy cloak falling from one shoulder. Either of these men might have sat to Pheidias for the Theseus. Both were more magnificent in form than any statue ever made. Doubtless, in the days of her ancient glory, Greece contained a far larger proportion of inhabitants who were beautiful than are to be found now; nevertheless Pheidias without a doubt had to exercise his gift of selecting the best, no less than did Leighton and Watts.
[51] See [List of Illustrations].
[52] Ibid.
[53] Ibid.
[54] Mr. Herbert Wilson.
[55] The story is that on Leighton's expressing his gratitude at receiving a visit from him (Ary Scheffer), he replied, "If I did not attach considerable importance to your talent, I should not have mounted three flights of stairs to see you."