Recollections of the late William Beckford of Fonthill, Wilts and Lansdown, Bath | Page 4

whole speech, repeated it word for word to me, and what is more, acted it in my father's manner." "That is the portrait of my great grandfather, Colonel Peter Beckford. It was painted by a French artist, who went to Jamaica for the purpose, at the time he was Governor of the island." It is a full length portrait, large as life, the Colonel dressed in a scarlet coat embroidered richly with gold. There is also a lovely portrait by Barker of the present Marquis of Douglas, Mr. Beckford's grandson; it was painted when Lord Douglas was twelve or thirteen years old. There is also a charming picture by Reynolds, two beautiful little girls, full length and large as life, they are the present Duchess of Hamilton and her sister, Mrs General Ord.
We now entered the lovely dining room, which in point of brilliancy and cheerfulness has more the character of a drawing than of a dining room. Opposite the window is an upright grand pianoforte. It is the largest ever made, with the exception of its companion made at the same time, and its richness and power of sound are very great. Over the fire is what is seldom seen in a dining room, a large looking glass. The paintings in this room have been valued at upwards of 20,000 pounds.
On the right as you enter are five pictures that once adorned the Aldsbrandini Palace, namely, the St. Catherine by Raphael, a Claude, a Garofalo, two by Ferrara, and several smaller ones. But how shall I attempt to describe to you the St. Catherine? This lovely picture combines all the refined elegance of the Venus de Medici, in form, contour, and flowing lines, with an astonishing delicacy of colour, and masterly yet softened execution. The eyes are turned upwards with an expression of heavenly resignation, the neck, flesh and life itself, the hands, arms, and shoulders so sweetly rounded, while the figure melts into the background with the softness of Corregio.
And fills The air around with beauty, we inhale The ambrosial aspect, which beheld instils Part of its immortality; the veil Of heaven is half withdrawn, within the pale We stand, and in that form and face behold What mind can make, when Nature's self would fail.
I can only convey to you a very slight idea of the impression produced by the contemplation of this admirable painting. Such grace and sweetness, such softness and roundness in the limbs. She seems the most beautiful creature that ever trod this earthly planet; in short it is no earthly beauty that we gaze upon, but the very beau ideal of Italian loveliness.
Eve of the land which still is Paradise.
Italian beauty! didst thou not inspire Raphael? "How different," said Mr. Beckford, "is that lovely creature from Mr. Etty's beauties. They are for the most part of a meretricious character, would do well enough for a mistress; but there," pointing to the St. Catherine, "there are personified the modesty and purity a man would wish to have in a wife, and yet Frenchmen find fault with it. C'est un assez joli tableau, say they, mais la tete manque, de l'expression, si elle avait plus d'esprit, plus de vivacite! Mais Raphael, il n'avait jamais passe les Alpes." We burst out laughing, and I added, "Le pauvre Raphael quel dommage, de ne savoir rien du grand. Monarque! ni de la grande nation." "Yet," I continued, "there is a painter, Stotherd, who has come nearer to the great Italian, in the grace and elegance of his women and children, than perhaps any other, and merits well the proud appellation of the English Raphael. What a shame that he never met with encouragement." "But I understood that he was tolerably successful. He painted many things for me at Fonthill. You are surely mistaken." "By no means," I replied. "Latterly he seldom sold a picture, and supported himself on the paltry income of 200 pounds a year, raised by making little designs for booksellers. Yet what a noble painting is Chaucer's pilgrimage to Canterbury." "It is indeed," said Mr. Beckford. "But, sir, there is another painter, Howard, whose conceptions are most poetical. Do you remember his painting at Somerset House in 1824, representing the solar system, from Milton's noble lines--
Hither as to their fountain, other stars Repairing, in their golden urns draw light?"
"I remember it perfectly; 'twas a most beautiful picture." "Milton's original idea, that of the planets drawing light from their eternal source, as water from a fountain, is certainly a glorious, a golden one; but who beside Howard could have so tangibly, so poetically developed the poet's idea in colour. The personifying the planets according to their names, as Venus, Mercury, and so forth, was charming, and the splendour of the nearer figures, overwhelmed as it were