Some time after this Leighton wrote to Mrs. Pattison the following letter, which proves that to the end he retained his great affection for Eduard von Steinle. This friend and master died in 1886, but whether Leighton made this inquiry before or after that date I do not know, as his letter is not dated:—
Dear Mrs. Pattison,—I saw a paragraph not long ago in the Academy which concerned me deeply; it did not say, but it implied that my dear old friend and master, Ed. Steinle (professor at Frankfurt a/M) is dead. Did you by chance write the note? and do you know when or how he died, if he be indeed dead? His wife has not written to me. I am anxious to have some certainty in the matter.
(Influenced) "—for good far beyond all others by Steinle, a noble-minded, single-hearted artist, s'il en fut ... Steinle's is the indelible seal." In making any estimate of Leighton's character these words should ever be remembered. They prove how deeply rooted were those feelings on which his principles were grafted. These words were no mere outlet for youthful enthusiasm and affection, but were noted with reference to an account of his life about to be written for publication; therefore we may consider them to be a deliberate statement made for a purpose, when he had reached the zenith of his fame and was already President of the Academy. The design by Steinle here produced, called Der Winter, in which the artist has drawn his own portrait when old, throws a light on the mind and nature of Leighton's master, whose influence on him for good was greater "far beyond all others."
Written on the drawing are these lines, penned by Steinle:—
Giunto è gia 'l corso della vita mia,
Che tempestoso mar per fragil barca
Al comun porto ov 'a render si varca
Giunto ragion d'ogni opera trista e pia.
Indi l'affettuosa fantasia
Che l'arte si fece idola e monarca
Conosco ben quant 'era d'error carca
Ch' errore è ciò che l'uom quaggiù desia.
. . . . . . . .
I pensier miei già de' miei danni lieti
Che fian se s'a due morti m'avvicino
L'una m' è certa, l'altra mi minaccia?
. . . . . . . .
Ne pinger ne scolpir fin più che queti
L'anima volta a quell' amor divino
Ch'aperse a prender noi in croce le braccia.
"DER WINTER"
Drawing by Eduard von Steinle[ToList]
No other member of Leighton's family was ever known to have been an artist, and neither his parents nor his sisters pretended to any knowledge of painting; but respecting literature he had an interest in common with both his sisters, also a very strong sympathy existed between Mrs. Matthews and Leighton in their love for music. In answer to a letter from Mrs. Orr relating to Mr. Augustine Birrell's well-known book, Leighton wrote, "I have read 'Obiter Dicta,' and am much charmed with its delicate humour and ease of its style. I thought 'Truth Seekers' charmingly written." With reference, however, to the Browning chapter he continues:—
Browning's obscurity hides a shorthand of which he keeps the key in his pocket. A matter of form, not of matter, as "O.D." hath it. Browning is not abstruse; he is a deep thinker, who therefore (vide "O.D.") requires obscure language; he is a most ingenious dialectician and a subtle analyst; but he is not a great poet on that account—he is a great poet because of his magnificent central heat, and the surface of interests over which he sheds it. All this is rather late in the day to remark, and one would not be exasperated by his friends if one had not a sort of feeling that they have done something to mar him. You say he would not be obscure if he knew it?—distinguons. His obscurity is not intentional—of course—it is inherent in a style which is strongly personal, and therefore sincere—but is it in no degree wilful?—does he not accept, virtually, some such (absolutely false) view of his obscurity as "O.D.'s"? A pity it certainly is; Browning is the last man who in his heart wishes to touch only the few—nobody knows better than he does that that is not the characteristic of the greatest poets, and that not for that is a poet's soul kindled to a white heat. Meanwhile, here is the fact that men of average culture and average brains (I claim both, for an example), and desirous of understanding, as well as full of admiration for his powers, often get at his meaning only by considerable effort, and sometimes not at all, and that not because the thought is obscure, but because it is wilfully written in cypher.