George Morland 



simple white-robed damsel, whom we may imagine as a younger 

 mistress. The hesitation and timidity of a little brunette and a 

 small curly-headed youngster who are evidently much in awe of 

 such a formal visit on the part of their grandmamma, are accord- 

 ingly expressed, and the two little girls who are peeping behind the 

 door add to the entertainment of a delightful scene. 



In the other picture mentioned above, "The Visit to a Child at 

 Nurse," we have another lady of fashion playing the lady bountiful 

 in a country cottage, where a young mother sits with a babe at her 

 breast, while another child lies fast asleep on a bed in the corner ; 

 and the details of the cottage are painted with the accuracy of a 

 man who knew the rustic life of England in the eighteenth century 

 with an intimate familiarity. Morland, indeed, was always a realist 

 in the best sense of the word, and, in spite of his unstable character 

 and wild, dissolute ways, he set a splendid example to his brother 

 artists by the conscientiousness of his work. In order to study the 

 expressions and natural poses of children, he invited all the little 

 ones of the neighbourhood to his studio at Camden Town, and he 

 made innumerable sketches of them as they played merrily around 

 his easel. It is said, and truly said, that no man can be really bad 

 who loves animals and little children, and certainly much may be 

 pardoned George Morland for his tenderness towards both of them. 

 What Mrs. Morland had to say on the matter we know not, but the 

 artist's house was a liberty-hall, not only to small boys and girls, 

 but to birds and beasts of every domestic description. Donkeys, 

 pigs and poultry, jackdaws in wicker cages, guinea-pigs and rabbits, 

 would keep him company as he painted, and many a time, when he 

 was engaged on a rural picture, his floor would be littered with 

 straw as if it were a barn. He never painted without models, and 

 if he wanted to get the tone of a red cloak, or the face of some 

 quaint rustic character, he would station a friend at the window to 

 look out for a passer-by who would suit the requirement, ready to 

 pounce out and invite the wayfarer in. On such occasions, we 

 are told, he gave liberal presents to those who had been useful to 

 him. 



Morland, no doubt, seemed mad to many of the elegant people 

 with whom he sometimes associated, and who could not understand 



'iO 



