Life and letters of John Constable, RA . opsto me. On the 16th of October the Houses of Parliament wereburnt; and Constable witnessed the scene from a hackney coach,in which, with his two eldest sons, he took a station on West-minster Bridge. The evening of the 3 ist he spent with me ; and,while describing the fire, he drew with a pen, on half a sheet ofletter paper, Westminster Hall, as it showed itself during the-conflagration ; blotting the light and shade with ink, which herubbed with his finger where he wished it to be lightest. He then,on another half-sheet, added the towers of the abbey
Life and letters of John Constable, RA . opsto me. On the 16th of October the Houses of Parliament wereburnt; and Constable witnessed the scene from a hackney coach,in which, with his two eldest sons, he took a station on West-minster Bridge. The evening of the 3 ist he spent with me ; and,while describing the fire, he drew with a pen, on half a sheet ofletter paper, Westminster Hall, as it showed itself during the-conflagration ; blotting the light and shade with ink, which herubbed with his finger where he wished it to be lightest. He then,on another half-sheet, added the towers of the abbey, and that ofSt. Margarets Church, and the papers, being joined, form a verygrand sketch of the whole scene. He was now again at work on the Salisbury, from theMeadows. This was a picture which he felt would probably infuture be considered his greatest; for if among his smaller worksthere were many of more perfection of finish, this he considered asconveying the fullest impression of the compass of iiis art. Butit met with no o D< 5 O 3CO i834-] SALISBURF FROM THE MEADOWS. 295 * December 4///. My dear Leslie,—I have never left my large Salisburysince I saw you. It would much delight me if, in the course ofto-day or to-morrow, you could see it for a moment. I cannot helptrying to believe that there may be something in it that, in somemeasure at least, may warrant your too high opinion of my land-scape in general. December i^th. My dear Leslie,—I write to beg of you to let me put off our visit to for a little. I was all day on Saturday at Ham, and shall be all this day with Wilkie, and I can hardlyspare so much of my valueless time, for though my life and occu-pation are useless, still I trifle on in a way that seems to myselflike doing something; and my canvas soothes me into a forgetful-ness of much that is disagreeable. I could not get on with ; how could I ? you will say. . Constable was at this time much disturbed by some transac-tions with the last person
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