78 KEMINISCENCES. [Ch. IY. 



to him as be lay down or lighted his cigarette. He took 

 a vivid interest both in plot and characters, and would on no 

 account know beforehand how a story finished ; he considered 

 looking at the end of a novel as a feminine vice. He could 

 not enjoy any story with a tragical end ; for this reason he 

 did not keenly appreciate George Eliot, though he often spoke, 

 warmly in praise of Silas Warner. Walter Scott, Miss Austen, 

 and Mrs. Gaskell were read and re-read till they could be read 

 no more. He had two or three books in hand at the same 

 time — a novel and perhaps a biography and a book of travels. 

 He did not often read out-of-the-way or old standard books, 

 but generally kept to the books of the day obtained from a 

 circulating library. 



His literary tastes and opinions were not on a level with the 

 rest of his mind. He himself, though he was clear as to what 

 he thought good, considered that in matters of literary tastes 

 he was quite outside the pale, and often spoke of what those 

 within it liked or disliked, as if they formed a class to which 

 he had no claim to belong. 



In all matters of art he was inclined to laugh at professed 

 critics and say that their opinions were formed by fashion. 

 Thus in painting, he would say how in his day every one 

 admired masters who are now neglected. His love of pictures 

 as a young man is almost a proof that he must have had an 

 appreciation of a portrait as a work of art, not as a likeness. 

 Yet he often talked laughingly of the small worth of portraits, 

 and said that a photograph was worth any number of 

 pictures, as if he were blind to the artistic quality in a painted 

 portrait. But this was generally said in his attempts to 

 persuade us to give up the idea of having his portrait painted, 

 an operation very irksome to him. 



This way of looking at himself as an ignoramus in all 

 matters of art, was strengthened by the absence of pretence, 

 which was part of his character. With regard to questions of 

 taste, as well as to more serious i things he had the courage 

 of his opinions. I remember, however, an instance that 

 sounds like a contradiction to this : when he was looking at 

 the Turners in Mr. Buskin's bedroom, he did not confess, 

 as he did afterwards, that he could make out absolutely 

 nothing of what Mr. Buskin saw in them. But this little 

 pretence was not for his own sake, but for the sake of courtesy 

 to his host. He was pleased and amused when subsequently 

 Mr. Buskin brought him some photographs of pictures (I 

 think Vandyke portraits), and courteously seemed to value my 

 father's opinion about them. 



