"He worshipped children, and his pictures of children with fruit and flowers are among the most delicious and spontaneous work ever done by him in painting. And I can see him again, during the last visit he paid to Rome in 1895, on his knees before my little girl, to accede to her request that she should have a lock of his hair as a remembrance."
Nothing could give a better record of two sides of Leighton's nature, often believed to be incompatible, than the contents of the letter from Naples to his sister, with its remarks on Nordau, Nietzsche, and the like, and this beautiful picture recalled by his old friend Costa—Leighton on his knees before a little child. The intellect which could crack the hardest of intellectual nuts was surmounted by lowly reverence for all beauty, most ardently adored when that beauty came to him in its most innocent childlike garb.
Writing to me on his return on November the 6th Leighton says: "I shall try to look in to-morrow at five. I want very much to hear Fuller-Maitland's preachment" (Lectures on Purcell were being given at our house previous to the Purcell Festival). "I am sorry to say I am no better, rather worse." On being asked the next day, as he came into our house, "How is it?" the answer Leighton gave was, "Oh, worse! Sometimes fifteen attacks a day." On his birthday, the 3rd of December, he wrote to his sister:—
2 Holland Park Road, Kensington, W.,
December 3, 1895.
Dear Lina,—The grand leaves in a mossy pot, and the sweet flowers, and the poems, and your letter, came all together. I know you will let me answer you both on one piece of paper. I know, dears, how true is your love, and though I am not a demonstrative person, it is very precious to me. I know you will both like to hear that after an hour's innings between L. Brunton, Dr. Tunnicliffe his partner, Roberts, and three most ingenious scientific instruments, and after tapping and auscultating of my wretched ear cap fore and aft, it was pronounced that (in some mysterious way) I am not worse, but better; well, I am glad to hear it; meanwhile my medicine is being strengthened, and will be again in the (pretty certain) event of its requiring more strength. L.B. quite hopes to rig me out for the May banquet. Much love to both from affectionate old brother.
On the 14th he wrote to his friend Mr. Henry Wells:—
2 Holland Park Road, Kensington, W.,
December 14, 1895.
Dear Wells,—Many thanks for your kind letter, relying on which I hasten to "nail" you for the 27th; I shall be very much disappointed if you say me "nay." I never give a long notice, in part so as to bring about a little shuffling of cards, and relieving my guests of a certain monotony of routine which might in the end irk them. I need not assure you that I am most warmly sensible to the vigilant and truly friendly interest which you manifest concerning my health; believe me, if I differ from you in not believing in the efficacy or feasibility of a suspension of activity for a year or two, it is in no unreasoning or perverse spirit (and let me, by-the-bye, say in passing that I have, for a few days past, certainly been a little better). Putting aside for a moment the fact that I have for the next year, and more, definite professional obligations in the way of commissioned work (which is, unfortunately, not incompatible with having a certain number of unsold works!), to withdraw from Academic duties would mean leaving England for the period in question; it would be morally impossible to remain here, apparently in robust health, congratulated constantly, as I am, on my healthy appearance, going about unrebuked by a very cautious doctor (Lauder Brunton), taking the pleasures of life apparently without any stint (as a matter of fact I am very quiet and regular, and under continuous medical treatment), and then shirking all its duties; but experience has shown that I gain nothing by absence—by change of climate and the rest; and, on the other hand, my temperament being what you know, the withdrawal from my active life would infallibly prey on me and have a marked effect on my health through my spirits; this is also the opinion of Lauder Brunton. My care must be to live quietly but not idly, and thus try to mend gradually, as I doubtless shall, in the hands of my doctor and my masseur. If, which God forbid, I am pronounced still unfit in May, I will bow, with whatever bitterness, to the judgment, but till then I must not forego hope. Meanwhile, you have all done me infinite service in prohibiting the "Discourse" for this year—I can't say how grateful I was for that! I shall also avoid, as far as may be, all controversy at our table; that is the worst thing of all by far, for yours sincerely always,
Fred Leighton.[87]
With the New Year honours and among those bestowed was a Peerage on Leighton, who was created Lord Leighton, Baron of Stretton (see [chap. i. vol. i., Antecedents]). Needless to say, congratulations poured in from all sorts and conditions. One of these in writing was preserved because enclosed in a note to his sister.