200 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



ers of work, and his deep affection for his wife and children was a 

 mighty stimulus to exertion. My mother, on the other hand, along 

 with a singular sweetness of disposition, possessed great prudence 

 and force of character ; she entered, as her letters indicate, into all 

 that concerned her husband with wife-like zeal, and her sympathy 

 and counsel were appreciated by him above all else that the world 

 could bestow. 



In withdrawing from the more fashionable part of Edinburgh, 

 they did not, however, by any means exclude themselves from the 

 pleasures of social intercourse with the world. In Ann street they 

 found a pleasant little community that made residence there far 

 from distasteful; the seclusion of the locality made it then, as it 

 seems still to be, rather a favorite quarter with literary men and 

 artists. The old mansion of St. Bernard's, the property and dwel- 

 ling-house of Sir Henry Raeburn (the glory of Scotland's portrait- 

 painters) offered them its hospitality and kindly intercourse. No 

 one can forget how, in the circle of his own family, that dignified 

 old gentleman stood, himself a very picture, his fine intellectual 

 countenance lightened by eyes most expressive, whose lambent glow 

 gave to his face that inward look of soul he knew so well to impart 

 to his own unsurpassed portraits. Genius shed its peculiar beauty 

 over his aspect, yet memory loves more than aught else the recol- 

 lections of the benevolent heart that lent to his manner a grace of 

 kindliness as sincere as it was delightful. The place in Scottish art 

 which he had so long occupied without a fellow was soon to become 

 vacant. But a worthy successor was at that time following his 

 footsteps to fame. 



Sir John Watson Gordon lived with his father (then Captain, 

 afterwards Admiral Watson) and a pleasant group of brothers and 

 sisters, in the house adjoining that of Professor Wilson, in whom 

 this rising artist found a warm and kind patron. Not a few of his 

 early pictures were painted under the encouragement and advice of 

 his genial friend. Almost the first subject that brought him into 

 prominent comparison with the best English painters of the day 

 was a portrait of my sister, when seven years of age — a beautifully 

 colored and poetically conceived picture. This gentleman has long 

 since reaped the reward of his industry and talent, and now wears 

 the honor of knighthood, along with the important position of 

 President of the Royal Scottish Academy, continuing still, from 



