"AN ATHLETE STRANGLING A PYTHON"
From small sketch, 1876[ToList]
Grove Lodge,
Palace Gardens Terrace, Kensington, W.,
December 11, 1874.
Dear Mr. Leighton,—I fear that the note which I sent with the bronze did not explain itself sufficiently. I meant to ask you to accept it—"to have and to hold for yourself your heirs and assigns for ever," to speak legally.
I can in no way express the pleasure I felt when I saw your small study for the man battling with the serpent. I hope the report in the Academy that it is to be done life-size in bronze is true. It will be worthy to go with the best of the antiques. The other study for the singing maidens was delightful[50] as the other was grand. To put it in the picturesque parlance of the Far West, "I was knocked over and sat on." It will be a slight relief to give my words a little form and weight; as I am unfortunately not a Roman Emperor and have not a golden crown of laurel about me, pray do me the favour to accept the only thing I have worth sending.—Believe me, yours very sincerely,
Geo. H. Boughton.
Grove Lodge,
Palace Gardens Terrace, Kensington,
December 14, 1874.
Dear Mr. Leighton,—I don't know which to admire most—the "sketch," as you call it (it seems "heroic" in size even now), or your great kindness in sending it to me. Now that I may enjoy it at my leisure—and I take my leisure very often—it seems finer even than I thought it was. Not merely the spirit of the antique, but the antique itself, and the "antique" I mean is the everlasting, the best mortal may ever hope to make.
This is, as far as my capacity for judging is worth, sincere. I know how perilous it is to say warmly what one feels, how it is put down as "gush" and "bad form"; but when in this very London fog of Art one sees a spark of pure light, there is some excuse for shouting with joy.
I should reproach myself with taking up overmuch of your time in this matter, but I know that you are very good-natured; besides you might have taken my poor little bronze tribute in as few words as I sent it, and there it might have ended—though for myself I am glad you did not, and shall be ever selfishly thankful that you acted as kindly as you did.