Haydon and his friends . ore manly, has no vanity, is not deluded byany flattery or humbug, and is in every way agrander character, though Lord Grey is a fine,amiable, venerable, vain man. A curious com-ment upon the above passage is to be found ina letter addressed by Miss Mitford on October27, 1839, to John Lucas,1 the young artist, whowas patronised by the Duke of Wellington :— Poor Haydon! What you will be, he, withprudence, steadiness, good sense, and modesty(for conceit has been his worst enemy) might havebeen. He had power, and with the cultivationof higher and better intellectual a
Haydon and his friends . ore manly, has no vanity, is not deluded byany flattery or humbug, and is in every way agrander character, though Lord Grey is a fine,amiable, venerable, vain man. A curious com-ment upon the above passage is to be found ina letter addressed by Miss Mitford on October27, 1839, to John Lucas,1 the young artist, whowas patronised by the Duke of Wellington :— Poor Haydon! What you will be, he, withprudence, steadiness, good sense, and modesty(for conceit has been his worst enemy) might havebeen. He had power, and with the cultivationof higher and better intellectual and moral quali-ties, he might have had taste—for taste is a moralquality. But he surrounds himself with flatterers,he becomes hopelessly involved, and how can hepaint then ? That is the secret of his yet, remembering what he was, and whathe might have been, one still says, PoorHaydon! Haydon seems to have concluded this year in 1 John Lucas (1807-1874), portrait-painter. First exhibited at theAcademy in / y B. R. HAYDON AND HIS FRIENDS 231 what was, for him, a state of comfort and is worthy of note that his pious dependence onheavenly support diminished with his freedom fromcare, and he notes in a Sunday entry : Went tochurch, but prosperity, though it makes me grate-ful, does not cause me such perpetual religiousmusings as adversity. When on a precipice,where nothing but Gods protection can save me,I delight in religious hope, but I am sorry to saymy religion ever dwindles unless kept alive byrisk of ruin. My piety is never so intense as ina prison, and my gratitude never so much aliveas when I have just escaped from one. The picture of the Duke was finished beforethe end of the year, and seems to have been muchadmired—admiration in which the artist himselfheartily joined. The poet Rogers called to seethe new work, and said he wished Haydon wouldpaint another Napoleon without making him asfat as he really was. This led to a small com-missio
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