PECULIARITIES AND ECCENTRICITIES. 



13 



this defect, served to increase my I you "will receive amusement. Nay, 



embarrassment by making me sen- 

 sible of every deficiency. 



When I write, my ideas are ar- 

 ranged with the utmost difficulty. 

 They glance on my imagination, and 

 ferment till they discompose, heat, 

 and bring on a palpitation : during 

 this state of agitation I see nothing 

 properly, cannot write a single word, 

 and must wait till it is over. In- 

 sensibly the agitation subsides, the 

 chaos acquires form, and each cir- 

 cumstance takes its proper place. 

 Had I always waited till that con- 

 fusion was past, and then painted, 

 in their natural beauties, the objects 

 that had presented themselves, few 

 authors would have surpassed me. 

 (Confessions.) 



BENVENUTO CELLINI. 



I have been reading lately a most 

 extraordinary work, which I did 

 read once before, but had totally for- 

 gotten, The History of Benvenuto 

 Cellini, a Florentine goldsmith and 

 designer, translated from the Italian 

 by Thomas Nugent. There is some- 

 thing in it so singularly character- 

 istical, that it is impossible to reject 

 the whole as fabulous, and yet it is 

 equally impossible not to reject a 

 great part of it as such. To recon- 

 cile this I would suppose, what the 

 work itself strongly evinces, that 

 the author must have been an in- 

 genious, hot-headed, vain, audacious 

 man, and that the violence of his 

 passions, the strength of his super- 

 stition, and the disasters into which 

 he plunged himself, made him mad 

 in the end. We know that the 

 Italians of the sixteenth century 

 were very ingenious in everything 

 that relates to drawing and design- 

 ing ; but it cannot be believed that 

 popes, emperors, and kings were so 

 totally engrossed with those mat- 

 ters as Signior Cellini represents 

 them. If you have never seen the 

 book I would recommend it as a 

 curiosity, from which I promise that 



in regard to the manner of those 

 times, there is even some instruc- 

 tion in it. (Dr.Beattie.) 



WORDSWORTH AND HAYDON THE 



PAINTER. 



"May 22. Wordsworth called 

 to-day, and we went to church to- 

 gether. There was no seat to be got 

 at the chapel near us belonging to 

 the rectory of Paddington, and we 

 sat among publicans and sinners. 

 I determined to try him, so advised 

 our staying, as we could hear more 

 easily. He agreed like a Christian ; 

 and I was much interested in seeing 

 his venerable white head close to a 

 servant in livery, and on the same 

 level. The servant in livery fell 

 asleep, and so did Wordsworth. I 

 jogged him at the Gospel, and he 

 opened his eyes and read well. A 

 preacher preached when we ex- 

 pected another, so it was a disap- 

 pointment. We afterwards walked 

 to Eogers's, across the park. He 

 had a party to lunch, so I went 

 into the pictures, and sucked Kern- 



Bassan, and Tintoretto. Words- 

 worth said, 'Hay don is downstairs.' 

 ' Ah, ' said Eogers, ' he is better 

 employed than chattering nonsense 

 up stairs.' As Wordsworth and I 

 crossed the park, we said, ' Scott, 

 Wilkie, Keats, Hazlitt, Beaumont, 

 Jackson, Charles Lamb are all gone 

 we only are left.' He said, ' How 

 old are you T 'Fifty-six,' I replied. 

 ' How old are you 1 ' ' Seventy- 

 three,' he said ; ' in my seventy- 

 third year. I was born in 1770.' 

 'And I in 1780.' 'You have 

 many years before you.' ' I trust 

 I have ; and you, too, I hope. Let 

 us cut out Titian, who was ninety- 

 nine.' 'Was he ninety-nine 1 ?' said 

 Wordsworth. ' Yes, ' said I, ' and 

 his death was a moral ; for as he 

 lay dying of the plague, he was 

 plundered, and could not help him- 

 self.' We got on Wakley's abuse, 



