NOLLEKENS’ VISIT TO ROME.

In 1760, Nollekens proceeded to Italy, by the way of Paris. On arriving in the French capital, he presented himself at the house of an uncle there, told his name, and claimed kindred. The old gentleman stood with his door half opened, put a few cool questions, and seemed to doubt the veracity of his story; but at length catching a glimpse of a gold watch-chain, he invited him to dinner. The pride of the young artist, however, had been deeply touched—he declined the invitation, and went his way. On reaching Rome, the friendless youth found his stock reduced to some twenty guineas; and dreading want, and what was worse, dependence, he set about mending his fortune with equal despatch and success. He modelled and carved in stone a bas-relief, which brought him ten guineas from England; and in the next year the Society of Arts voted him fifty guineas for his Timoclea before Alexander, which was in marble. He was now noticed by the artists of Rome, and lived on friendly terms with Barry, who was waging a useless and vexatious war with interested antiquarians and visitors of wealth and virtu. Indeed, such was the gentleness of his nature, and his mild and unassuming demeanor, that he never made enemies except amongst those who could have done no one credit as friends.

NOLLEKENS AND GARRICK.

During Nollekens’ residence at Rome, Garrick came one day into the Vatican, and observing the young sculptor, said, “Ah! what? let me look at you! You are the little fellow to whom we gave the prizes in the Society of Arts? eh!” Nollekens answered, “Yes,” upon which the actor shook him kindly by the hand, inquired concerning his studies, and invited him to breakfast the next morning. He did more—he sat to him for his bust, and when the model was finished, he gave him twelve guineas. This was the first bust he ever modelled.

NOLLEKENS’ TALENTS IN BUST SCULPTURE.

The bust of Sterne, which he afterwards executed at Rome in terra cotta, materially increased his reputation; and the applause that it received probably warned the sculptor of his talents in that branch of the art, in which he afterwards became so distinguished. It forms a truly admirable image of the original, and Nollekens, to his last hour, alluded to it with pleasure. “Dance,” he used to say, “made my picture with my hand leaning on Sterne’s head—he was right.” This striking bust is now in the collection of Mr. Agar Ellis. His talents in bust sculpture were universally acknowledged, and when Mr. Coutts, the banker, applied to Fuseli, then keeper of the Royal Academy, for the best sculptor to execute his bust, the painter replied, “I can have no difficulty in telling you; for though Nollekens is weak in many things, in a bust he stands unrivalled. Had you required a group of figures, I should have recommended Flaxman, but for a bust, give me Nollekens.

NOLLEKENS’ BUST OF DR. JOHNSON.

While he was modelling the bust of Dr. Johnson, the latter came one day accompanied by Miss Williams, a blind lady; and being very impatient of the protracted sittings, he came quite late, which so displeased the sculptor that he cried out, “Now, Doctor, you did say you would give my bust half an hour before dinner, and the dinner has been waiting this long time.” “Nolly, be patient, Nolly,” said the sage, making his way to the bust. “How is this, Nolly, you have loaded the head with hair.” “All the better,” returned the artist, “it will make you look more like one of the ancient sages or poets.—I’ll warrant now, you wanted to have it in a wig.” The Doctor remonstrated seriously, saying, “a man, sir, should be portrayed as he appears in company”—but the sculptor persisted. The bust is an admirable work of art, besides being a faithful likeness.

NOLLEKENS’ LIBERALITY TO CHANTREY.

When Chantrey sent his bust of Horne Tooke to the Exhibition, he was young and unfriended; but the great merit of the work did not escape the eye of Nollekens. He lifted it from the floor, set it before him, moved his head to and fro, and having satisfied himself of its excellence, turned to those who were arranging the works for the Exhibition, and said, “There’s a very fine work: let the man who made it be known—remove one of my busts, and put this in its place, for it well deserves it.” Often afterwards, when desired to model a bust, he said in his most persuasive way, “Go to Chantrey, he is the man for a bust; he will make a good bust of you—I always recommend him.” He sat for his bust to Chantrey, who always mentioned his name with tenderness and respect.