can arise only from feelings of respect and regard, accompanied by those comforts and elegancies which wealth alone can bestow. And I cannot refrain from expressing my conviction, that these attentions, which were afforded without the least ostentation, not only contributed to make the winter of his life pleasant, but really prolonged the existence of a man to whom the public are so much indebted as an artist, critic, and teacher of the Fine Arts.

It has been often remarked, that old men do not feel so acutely the loss of relations and friends, as those who are of a less advanced age. But this was not the case with Fuseli; for, although now in his eighty-first year, his faculties were unimpared, and he still possessed a great degree of sensibility. As one friend dropped into the grave after another, he felt the loss of each, and constantly exclaimed, "It is my turn next," advising me at the same time, as I advanced in life, to cultivate the friendship of men younger than myself, that I might not be left without friends in old age. Although when a younger man he appeared to his acquaintances to cling much to life, yet now when he spoke of death, it was without fearful forebodings. Death," he used to say, "is nothing; it is the pain and feebleness of

66

body under a lingering disease, which often precedes death, that I dread; for, at my time of life, I can look forward but to a day, and that passes quickly." The following extract of a letter to the Countess of Guilford, dated the 17th of November 1821, and written on his return to London with Mrs. Fuseli, after they had passed some time at Brighton, will further show his feelings on this subject.

"Taciti, soli, e senza compagnia.

"We jogged on, though at a swifter pace than Dante and his guides, sympathising (one at least,) with autumn's deciduous beauty, and whispering to every leaf the eye caught falling, Soon shall I follow thee!

"Indeed, were it not for those I should leave behind, I would not care if now."

Mr. Roscoe this year (1821) visited London. From Fuseli's advanced age, and Mr. Roscoe's weakness of body, the former anticipated that it would be the last time they should meetwhich anticipation, I believe, was realized. A day or two after Mr. Roscoe's arrival. I received the following note from Fuseli.

66 MY DEAR SIR,

"Sunday, 11th February, 1821.

"OLD Mr. Roscoe is in town for a few days at his son Robert's house, No. 6, Dyer's Buildings, Holborn : I am to dine with them on Tuesday, at five: Robert came to invite you to the party, but finding you were out of town to-day, requested me to do it for him. You cannot do a thing more agreeable to them or me than comply with our request, if disengaged; and as it probably may be the last time you will see Mr. Roscoe in London, I hope you will suffer no trifling engagement to deprive us of you. "Ever,

"HENRY FUSELI."

"We may go together."

"To John Knowles, Esq."

A few days afterwards I had again the pleasure to meet Mr. Roscoe at Fuseli's table; there were also present, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Mr. Lock, Mr. Howard, R. A., Mr. J. Symmons, and Mr. Robert Roscoe. The conversation was desultory, sometimes upon literature, at others upon art; and at two more intellectual dinnerparties I have seldom been present. Fuseli was animated and energetic, and shewed that he then possessed a mind of the greatest vigour, with an unimpaired memory.

CHAPTER XII.

Decline of Fuseli's Health.-Letter from Mr. James C. Moore. -Fuseli's Bust by Baily, and Portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence. His last Academical Lectures.-Particulars of his Illness and Death.-Proceedings relative to his interment, with an account of the ceremony.-Copy of his Will.

THE intimates of Fuseli had observed, with much concern, that for two or three years, although his general health did not appear to be materially affected by age, yet there was a predisposition to water in the chest, which usually manifested itself when he took cold, by his being occasionally affected with some difficulty in breathing, irregularity of pulse, and also by the swelling, in a slight degree, of his feet and ancles. These symptoms were repeatedly removed, in a few days, by the appropriate reme

dies, but after intervals they recurred. On the 23d August, 1823, he sent a note to my house, early in the morning, expressing a wish to see me immediately, which summons I promptly obeyed. On my arrival, he said, that although when we parted at ten o'clock the preceding evening, he did not feel at all indisposed; yet, shortly after he had retired to bed, he found a difficulty in breathing, such as he had never before experienced, and that his legs were much swollen, and wished therefore to consult a friend of mine, Dr. Maton. I told him that the Doctor was absent from London, and therefore advised him to send for a physician with whom he and I were well acquainted, (Sir Alexander Crichton,) to meet his friend and usual medical adviser, Mr. Richard Cartwright; to which proposal he assented. Mrs. Fuseli was at this time at Brighton, for the benefit of her health; and he gave me strict injunctions not to inform her of his indisposition. But as his medical advisers told me the disease was water in the chest, and that the symptoms were alarming, I wrote to Mrs. Fuseli, informing her in some degree of the facts; and, although much indisposed herself, she came immediately to London.

His case, for some time, was considered to