considered as second only, and that but in some matters, to Lawrence himself. The world of taste expected to see Jackson assert his superiority; and many heard, with disappointment and regret, that he was obliged to seek health in the country. But the health which meadows, and glades, and river banks, often give to the thankless and the undeserving was denied to the painter; he visited his native place, and cast his eye, for a last time, on the village where he lived when a child; saw a present which he made, of a copy of "Christ in the Garden," to his parish church, placed in a suitable light, and set out for London, to the bosom of his family. He had taken an inside seat; but one of those overbearing gentlemen whom the meek and the careless are sometimes doomed to meet with interposed, and Jackson, without cloak or proper covering, was driven to the top of the coach to encounter a storm of wind and rain. Cold and drenched, he reached his own house; and a long and severe illness, which brought him nigh the grave, was the consequence of this unfortunate journey. He had in some degree recovered from this, when Lord Mulgrave died, and Jackson, feeble and ill as he was, considered it his duty to follow the remains of his benefactor to the grave. On his way he felt himself worse, and, amid the mourners, was remarked as one for whom the grave was gaping. He reached his own house with difficulty, sickened, and, in spite of all human skill, died in June, 1831, in the fifty-third year of his age.

In person, Jackson was above the middle height,

66

well made, though slim, and of a mild and pleasing look. He was silent in mixed company, but his silence had nothing surly in it; with a friend or two he was companionable, lively, and entertaining. Though some questions were rather rudely agitated during his day in the Academy, he mingled not in such bickerings, but maintained his ordinary tone and temper. This was not from education but from nature; he was born so, and it cost him no effort to practise it. I never saw him so happy," said Lord Dover, "as when contemplating the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds; and he never lost an opportunity of purchasing his pictures, when, at a sale, the price came within his reach. In settling the prices of his own pictures, he was moderate even to generosity. The only difficulty I ever found with him was in persuading him to let me pay him for such works as he painted for me he used to say 'We will talk of that another time.' His knowledge and judgment of old pictures were considerable, and I bought several of those in my rooms by his advice. He had imbibed the purest taste in art from Sir George Beaumont, the best judge of pictures I ever remember. In private he could not be but beloved for his singleness of heart, and his simplicity and truth of mind; in all the relations, too, of domestic life, he was exemplary, which is not surprising, when we reflect that his actions were regulated by a fervent sense of religion."

As a painter, his chief merits were truth of character, and force of colour. In most of his portraits, however, he appears to have limited

his views to an accurate image of the person; he is vigorous as far as flesh and blood give vigour, but neglects too much to inspire his heads with sentiment, or bestow upon them a visible capacity for thought; and it cannot be denied that he often has something of vulgarity about his vigour. He had uncommon readiness of hand a rapid felicity in finishing: his colouring is deep and clear. Some continue to speak of him as the ablest of the express followers of Reynolds; I should rather say, judging him by his best works, such as will keep their fame hereafter, that, in expression, Jackson occupies a place between the elegant detail of Lawrence, and the manly generalities of Raeburn. In freedom and vigorous breadth of colour he more than approaches the first President of the Academy.

297

LIVERSEEGE.

Or this painter a short account was written for "The Athenæum" by Miss Jewsbury, now Mrs. Fletcher; and another by another hand appears in the "Library of the Fine Arts." As both writers were acquainted with the artist, and show much taste and feeling, I have availed myself of their labours, adding all the original information I could obtain, and such remarks as seemed necessary.

Henry Liverseege was born at Manchester in the year 1803. The fine arts flourish most where wealth and knowledge abound: they are less heeded in places where men have to procure subsistence before they sacrifice to elegance. That Manchester, lately a village, but now a town with two members of parliament, encouraged as well as produced Liverseege, must be taken as a proof of increasing wealth, and growing taste. At first the fortunes of the painter were dark enough. He was born weak and deformed; and when he began to gain strength, the painful discovery was made, that his father disliked him, and treated him harshly. Of this cruel parent, it is said, "he could never speak without feelings of deep emotion; oftentimes with tears at the manner he

neglect." Poverty has been assigned as the cause of this unnatural conduct: his father held a subordinate situation in a cotton manufactory, and supported himself with difficulty: but poverty has usually proved a kind and compassionate nurse, with whom weakness of body excites a warmer sympathy and a deeper love. We must set it down to deficiency of feeling. That he looked upon his helpless child with aversion, has not been denied, and must be recorded to the dishonour of human nature. The place of the father was supplied by the uncle, a person generous and kind, who brought the boy up, and watched over him with care, and even fondness. He was afflicted with an asthma from his cradle; and, besides being weak, he was not a little peevish. His temper, however, improved with his health, and all allowed him to be quick in comprehension, and desirous of knowledge.

The schoolmaster taught him to write, but he taught himself to draw. It was remarked, that a love of drawing grew upon him: he began soon to sketch heads and groups; he did this, he said, because he saw others do it: yet it was observed that he was solicitous to excel, and was never satisfied unless his attempts surpassed those of his companions. He was allowed to remain longer at school than usual, because of his weakness of body; but, when strong enough to be put to business, it was found that a love of painting had not only taken possession of his fancy, but that his uncle was resolved to indulge his inclinations. When he heard this he smiled, and it was observed from that day forward he was more