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Poor Haydon, with whom I have smoked many a pipe, would have acknowledged that Mr. Goodall's "David's Promise to Bathsheba" and "By the Sea of Galilee" prove that his aspirations are nearly fulfilled. These are extremely large pictures, yet well hung. The figure of Abishag is a little too much in the French taste for an old-fashioned painter. Ars longa, nuda veritas!
However, Sir, excuse me this once, and I will be more modest for the future in trespassing on your kindness. Yet, before I break out on my new wants, it will be but decent, Sir, to answer some particulars of your letter. I have lately read Mr. Goodall's book.
Do not think that every artist, however humble, however ignorant, does not know that Mr. Goodall's portrait of Mrs. Kettlewell stands quite beyond the range of criticism. Mr. Long, Mr. Leader, and Mr. Goodall were not elected Academicians because the Academicians who voted for them approved of their pictures, but because Mr.
'Hello, Elise! said the beauty casually, as the door opened and Elise Durwent entered, dressed in the uniform of an ambulance-driver. 'You'll find the room standing on its head, but chuck those things anywhere. 'Going out again? asked the new-comer, stepping over several feminine garments that had been thrown on the floor. 'Just a dance up the street in Jimmy Goodall's studio.
'That'll not get you out of it, in court, said Jinny. Upstairs Fanny evaded all the thrusts made by his mother, and did not declare her hand. She tidied her hair, washed her hands, and put the tiniest bit of powder on her face, for coolness, there in front of Mrs. Goodall's indignant gaze. It was like a declaration of independence. But the old woman said nothing.
The youngsters have exchanged a good bit of information. She calls him, "Walter" and he calls her "Miss Rosa." Goodall's tongue is loosened and he has told her everything about himself, about his home in Tennessee, the old pillared mansion under the oaks, the stables, the hunting; the friends he has; down to the chickens, and the box bushes bordering the walks.
He rounds the corner and shuffles away, casting off thus easily the ties of acquaintanceship as the moribund do, the season of dissolution being man's supreme hour of egoism and selfishness. But he turns and calls back through the fog to the other: "I say, Goodall of Memphis! If you get there before I do, tell 'em Hurd's a-comin' too. Hurd, of T'leder, Ah-hia." Thus Goodall's tempter deserts him.
Keith, p. 345-348. * Camden, p. 404. Goodall's Queen Mary, vol. ii. p. 317.
Goodall's arguments for proving the letters to be spurious and forged; and of Dr. Robertson and Mr. Hume's objections, by way of answer to Mr. Goodall, with critical observations on these authors. The third contains an examination of the arguments of Dr. Robertson and Mr. Hume, in support of the authenticity of the letters.
I have gone here and there, and have had my adventures like other men. One of them you have heard about the story of that girl Amy Drake the subject of Mrs. Goodall's righteous wrath. You shall know the truth, and if it offends your ears I can't help it. The girl simply threw herself into my arms, on a railway journey, when we met by pure chance.
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