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RENNIE'S LAST WORKS 



I'AKT VI 1. 



his portrait, and Chantrey chiselled his Lust ; but the 

 chalk drawing by Archibald Skirving, 1 after which our 



1 Archibald Skirving, like John 

 Rennie, was the son of an East Lo- 

 thian farmer. He was born in 1749, 

 at Garleton, a farm belonging to the 

 Earl of Wemyss. His father, Adam 

 Skirving, was a well-known hu- 

 morist and ballad-maker one of his 

 songs, * Hey, Johnny Cope,' a de- 

 scription of the rout of the royal army 

 at the battle of Prestonpans, being 

 still popular in Scotland. Its publi- 

 cation gave great offence to some of 

 Cope's officers, and one of them, 

 Lieutenant Smith, went so far as 

 to send Skirving a challenge, dated 

 the George Inn, Haddington. When 

 the messenger arrived with the mis- 

 sive, the farmer was in his yard, turn- 

 ing over manure. After reading the 

 letter, he said, " Ye may gang back 

 to Lieutenant Smith, and say to him, 

 if he likes to come up-by here, I'll 

 tak' a look at him ; if I've a mind to 

 fecht him, I'll fecht him; and if no, 

 I'll do as he did I'll rin awa' !" 

 Many similar stories are told of the 

 farmer's wit and humour, a consider- 

 able share of which was inherited by 

 his son Archibald. . In early life the 

 latter went to Rome to study art, and 

 remained in Italy nine years. He 

 walked the whole way from Rome, 

 but, while passing through France, 

 the revolutionary war broke out, 

 and he was apprehended and thrown 

 into prison, where he lay for nine 

 months. He subsequently studied 

 painting under David. Returned to 

 Scotland, he pursued his art in a 

 somewhat desultory manner, not 

 being under the necessity of apply- 

 ing himself to it with that patient and 

 continuous devotion which is essen- 

 tial to attaining high eminence in any 

 profession. He painted when, where, 

 and whom he pleased ; and sometimes 

 pursued a very eccentric course with 

 his sitters. One gentleman's por- 

 trait he painted in such a manner 

 as to give special prominence to a 

 large wart upon his face. A lady 

 who insisted on sitting to him, he put 

 off with the ungallant remark that 

 she " would ruin him for yellow." 



Notwithstanding his eccentricity, Skir- 

 ving was an extremely clever artist, 

 and his crayon drawings have rarely 

 been surpassed for vigour and bril- 

 liancy. He executed probably the best 

 head of Burns, with whom he was inti- 

 mate ; and the portrait of John Ren- 

 nie, which Mr. Holl lias rendered 

 with great skill, will give a good idea 

 of Skirving's power as a delineator of 

 character. Skirving and Rennie were 

 intimate friends, although in most re- 

 spects so unlike each other. Yet 

 Skirving had as true a genius in him, 

 and might have secured as great a 

 reputation in his own walk, as his 

 friend Rennie, had he worked as pa- 

 tiently and industriously. As he 

 grew older, he became more eccentric 

 and sarcastic. He dressed oddly, 

 in a broad-brimmed white hat, with- 

 out any neckcloth. He was at the 

 Earl of Wemyss's house at Gosford 

 one day, when the Countess was con- 

 versing with him as to the acquire- 

 ments of her daughters in art. The 

 young ladies were meanwhile occu- 

 pied in making grimaces at the odd 

 man behind his back, forgetting that 

 they were standing opposite a mirror, 

 in which he could see all their move- 

 ments. " The young ladies," observed 

 the painter, " may have studied art, 

 but I never saw such ugly faces as 

 those they make," pointing to the 

 glass before him. Allan Cunningham 

 relates the story of Skirving's calling 

 on Chantrey while he was finishing the 

 bust of Bird, the artist. " Well ! 

 and who is that?" asked Skirving. 

 " Bird, the eminent painter." " Paint- 

 er ! and what does he paint ?" 

 " Ludicrous subjects, Sir." " Ludi- 

 crous subjects ! Have you sat ?" 

 " Yes he has had one sitting ; but 

 when he heard that a gentleman with 

 a white hat, who wore no neckcloth, 

 had arrived from the North, he said, 

 * Go go ; I know of a subject mure 

 ludicrous still : Mr. Skirving is come !'" 

 This odd, but clever artist died at 

 Inveresk, near Edinburgh, in 1819, 

 at the advanced age of seventy. 



