family; a liberal and art-loving man, whose doors were always open to literary men and artists. To his house came Coleridge and Lamb, and, as we saw, Lawrence, James Ward, Stothard, Linnell; finally Blake, with whom, I think, Coleridge here became acquainted. Of Blake, Mr. Aders bought copies of the Songs of Innocence and Experience, and a few others of the illustrated books. His house in Euston Square was filled with pictures, chosen with excellent judgment, of a class not commonly selected in those days, viz. examples of the early Italian and, above all, early Flemish and German schools. It was as much a picture gallery as a house. The walls of drawing-room, bed-rooms, and even staircase, were all closely covered; with gallery railings in front to protect the pictures from injury. The collection was a remarkable and celebrated one, and has left lasting traces of itself in the history of picture-collecting. It comprised many works deeply interesting in the annals of painting. Among these was a fine old copy of the famous Adoration of the Lamb, of Hubert and Jan Van Eyck; one of the chief landmarks in the history of Art (Hubert's sole surviving composition). In this copy-formerly in the Hôtel de Ville, Ghent-could be alone seen the effect of the altar-piece as a whole; for the various compartments, both of the original and of Coxcie's copy, are widely scattered. There were several other precious and authentic pictures of the school of the Van Eycks: a very interesting small altar-piece, attributed to Margaretta Van Eyck, but since assigned to Quintin Matsys; the Portrait of an Artist, by Hans Memling, or, as some say, Dierick Stuerbout, afterwards in Mr. Rogers's collection; one or two undoubted small pieces from the hand of Hans Memling, some in the school of Roger Vander Weyden, and one of the dozen (or fewer) certain examples of Martin Schön known to exist.

The collection was visited by Passavant, the biographer of Raphael, during his visit to England in 1831, and the Flemish

and German portion of it is described at length in his Tour of a German Artist. It is characteristic of our National Gallery management, that not one of these often invaluable examples of rare masters was secured for the nation (it was the régime of Seguier, of liquorice-brown varnish fame), when the opportunity arose. For, in a subsequent year,-1836,-a terrible reverse in trade shattered the fabric of the munificent merchant's prosperity, and involved the dispersion of this interesting collection.

Mrs. Aders, a daughter of Raphael Smith, the engraver and painter, was herself an amateur artist, sufficiently mistress of painting to execute clever copies after the old masters, and original pictures, which extorted the praise of Blake-always candid to amateur merit. She was a beautiful and accomplished lady, of much conversational power, able to hold her own with the gifted men who were in the habit of frequenting her house. It is to her Coleridge's poem of The Two Founts was addressed.

After the ruin of her husband's fortunes, she withdrew from society, dying only a few years since. She remembered Blake with especial interest, and to the last delighted to talk of him.

At Mr. Aders' house the German painter, Gotzenberger, met Blake. On his return to Germany, he declared: I saw in England 'many men of talent, but only three men of genius-Coleridge, Flaxman, and Blake; and of these Blake was the greatest.' There, too, a gentleman first saw Blake, whom, so long ago as 1809, we beheld a solitary visitor to the abortive exhibition in Broad Street; and, in 1810, writing an account of the memorable man for the Patriotische Annalen of good Dr. Perthes, of Hamburgh. Mr. Crabb Robinson, a gentleman who began life as a barrister, but who, throughout his career, has cultivated the acquaintance of distinguished men of letters, had, during twenty years, heard much of Blake from Flaxman. The sculptor, if he did not go so far as to speak of him as an actual seer, was still further from joining in

Z

the ordinary derision of him as a madman. But it was not till 1825 that Mr. Crabb Robinson met the visionary man, at Mr. Aders' table, in the company of Mr. Linnell. This was on the 10th December,' writes Mr. Robinson, in the very interesting Reminiscences (based on his Journals), with the sight of a portion of which I have been kindly favoured. His account of Blake is from a point of view widely different from those of the artist's enthusiastic young disciples, yet, in all essentials, corroborates them. Many of the extravagances and incoherences recorded as falling from Blake's lips at these interviews indicate, to one familiar with his habits of mind, that he was often, in the course of them, ruffled by his friendly but very logical and cool-headed interlocutor, into extreme statements. He allowed himself to be drawn out pretty considerably, but not with closed eyes.

I was aware of his idiosyncrasies, and therefore I to a great 'degree prepared for the sort of conversation which took place at and 'after dinner: an altogether unmethodical rhapsody on art, poetry, 'religion; he saying the most strange things in the most unemphatic 'manner, speaking of his visions as any man would of the most ordinary occurrence. He was then sixty-eight years of age. He had a broad 'pale face, a large full eye, with a benignant expression,-at the same 'time a look of languor, except when excited; and then he had an air 'of inspiration; but not such as, without previous acquaintance with him, 'or attending to what he said, would suggest the notion that he was insane.'

The italics are mine. Mr. Robinson, I should mention, is among those who think Blake to have been an insane man of genius,' or, at any rate, a victim of monomania; and is the only one to think so of all I have met who actually knew anything of him.

'There was nothing wild about his looks. Though very ready to be drawn out to the assertion of his favourite ideas, yet there was no warmth, as if he wanted to make proselytes. Indeed, one of the

'peculiar features of his scheme, as far as it was consistent, was indiffer 'ence, and a very extraordinary degree of tolerance and satisfaction with 'what had taken place-a sort of pious and humble optimism; not the 'scornful optimism of Candide. But, at the same time that he was very ready to praise, he seemed incapable of envy, as he was of discontent. He warmly praised some compositions of Mrs. Aders'; and having 'brought for A. an engraving of his Canterbury Pilgrims, he remarked 'that one of the figures resembled a figure in one of the works then ' in Aders' room, and that he had been accused of having stolen from it. 'But he added that he had drawn the figure in question twenty years 'before he had seen the original picture. "However, there is no wonder in the resemblance, as in my youth I was always studying that class 'of paintings." I have forgotten what the figure was. But his taste was in close conformity with the old German school. This was some'what at variance with what he said, both this day and afterwards,'implying that he copied his visions.

'It was at this first meeting that, in answer to a question from me "he said, "The Spirits told me." This led me to say: "Socrates used 'pretty much the same language-he spoke of his Genius. Now, what 'affinity for resemblance do you suppose was there between the Genius 'which inspired Socrates and your Spirits ?" He smiled, and for once it 'seemed to me as if he had a feeling of vanity gratified. "The same as in our countenances." He paused and added: "I was Socrates, or 'a sort of brother. I must have had conversations with him. So I had 'with Jesus Christ; I have an obscure recollection of having been with both of them." As I had for many years been familiar with the idea that an 'eternity a parte post was inconceivable without an eternity a parte ante, I 'was naturally led to express that thought on this occasion. His eye bright'ened on my saying this. He eagerly assented-"To be sure! We are 'all coexistent with God; members of the Divine Body, and partakers 'of the Divine Nature."

. . . From something Blake said, drawing the inference, then there 'is no use in education,-he hastily rejoined: "There is no use in 'education-I hold it wrong-it is the great Sin; it is eating of the 'tree of knowledge of Good and Evil. That was the fault of Plato: 'he knew of nothing but the virtues and vices. There is nothing in 'all that. Everything is good in God's eyes." On my asking whether 'there is nothing absolutely evil in what man does, he answered: "I am 'no judge of that-perhaps not in God's eyes." Notwithstanding this,

'he, however, at the same time, spoke of error as being in Heaven; for 'on my asking whether Dante was pure in writing his Vision,-" Pure!" "said Blake, "is there any purity in God's eyes? No! He chargeth His angels with folly." He even extended this liability to error to 'the Supreme Being. "Did He not repent Him that He had made 'Nineveh?" My Journal here has the remark, that it is easier to retail 'his personal remarks than to reconcile those which seemed to be in 'conformity with the most opposed abstract systems.'

Perhaps, indeed, the attempt to methodise them into a system was so much labour lost? The key to the wild and strange rhapsodies Blake would utter can be supplied by love, but not by the intellect. To go with Blake, it almost required that a man should have the mind of an artist-and an artist of a peculiar kind-or one strongly in unison with that class of mind.

'He spoke with seeming complacency of his own life in connexion 'with art. In becoming an artist he acted by command: the Spirits 'said to him, "Blake, be an artist!" His eye glistened while he spoke of the joy of devoting himself to divine art alone. "Art is inspiration. 'When Michael Angelo, or Raphael, in their day, or Mr. Flaxman, does one of his fine things, he does them in the spirit." Of fame he said : "I should be sorry if I had any earthly fame, for whatever natural glory a man has is so much detracted from his spiritual glory. I wish 'to do nothing for profit; I want nothing; I am quite happy." This was confirmed to me on my subsequent interviews with him. His dis'tinction between the natural and spiritual worlds was very confused. Incidentally, Swedenborg was mentioned :-he declared him to be a 'divine teacher; he had done, and would do, much good: yet he did 'wrong in endeavouring to explain to the Reason what it could not com'prehend. He seemed to consider-but that was not clear-the visions 'of Swedenborg and Dante as of the same kind. Dante was the greater 'poet. He, too, was wrong,-in occupying his mind about political objects. Yet this did not appear to affect his estimation of Dante's 'genius, or his opinion of the truth of Dante's visions. Indeed, when 'he even declared Dante to be an atheist, it was accompanied by ex'pression of the highest admiration; "though," said he, "Dante saw devils where I saw none."