Constable (John), R.A.
JOHN CONSTABLE, born in Suffolk, in the year 1776, passed his infancy in a beautifully rural country, the scenery of which he was in love with to the day of his death. His predilection for the art was developed before he reached the age of sixteen. Mrs. Constable procured for her son an introduction to Sir George Beaumont. Sir George had expressed himself much pleased with the youth’s pen-and-ink copies. He was sent to pursue his studies in London; and in 1799, writing to a friend, he says:—
“I paint by all the daylight we have, and there is little enough. I sometimes see the sky; but imagine to yourself how a pearl must look through a burnt glass. I employ my evenings in making drawings and in reading, and I hope by the former to clear my rent. If I can, I shall be very happy. Our friend Smith has offered to take any of my pictures into his shop for sale. He is pleased to find I am reasonable in my prices.”
Again, in Leslie’s memoirs of the artist we have the following memorandum of Constable:—
“For these few weeks past I have thought more seriously of my profession than at any other time of my life; of that which is the surest way to excellence. I am just returned from a visit to Sir George Beaumont’s pictures, with a deep conviction of the truth of Sir Joshua Reynolds’ observation, that ‘there is no easy way of becoming a good painter.’ For the last two years I have been running after pictures, and seeking the truth at second-hand. I have not endeavoured to represent nature with the same elevation of mind with which I set out, but have rather tried to make my performances look like the work of other men. I am come to a determination to make no idle visits this summer, nor to give up my time to commonplace people. I shall return to Bergholt, where I shall endeavour to get a pure and unaffected manner of representing the scenes that may employ me. There is little or nothing in the Exhibition worth looking up to. There is room enough for a natural painter. The great vice of the present day is bravura,—an attempt to do something beyond the truth. Fashion always had, and will have, its day; but truth in all things only will last, and can only have just claims on posterity. I have reaped considerable benefit from exhibiting; it shows me where I am, and in fact tells me what nothing else could.”
Constable kept up a wide correspondence among his friends, from which correspondence one of his most intimate friends, C. R. Leslie, compiled and published, with much taste and discretion, Memoirs of his Life.
Constable died in the year 1837.
ARCHDEACON FISHER.
After preaching one Sunday, the archdeacon asked the artist how he liked his sermon: he replied—“Very much indeed, Fisher; I always did like that sermon.”
CONSTABLES PLEASANTRY.
A picture of a murder sent to the Academy for exhibition while Constable was on the council, was refused admittance on account of a disgusting display of blood and brains in it; but Constable objected still more to the wretchedness of the work, and said: “I see no brains in the picture.”
This recalls another which is related of Opie, who, when a young artist asked him what he mixed his colours with, replied, “Brains.”
It being complained to him by his servant that the milk supplied was very poor and weak in quality, he said one morning to the milkman: “In future, we shall feel obliged if you will send us the milk and the water in separate cans.”